God of the Underworld
by Sage and Snape
Summary: AwardWinningAuthor!SS cannot have liabilities and he cannot stomach upheaval in his house, and he is face with a pureblood with a knack for trouble and violence and potions with a sordid past. Voldie later!
1. Second Chances

Disclaimer: Yup, u know what isn't mine as does everyone else...

A/N - I've used lots of different stories that I have read over the years as inspiration for this story. No infringement intended. ;-). If u r somehow offended please email me.

Chapter 1

Second Chances

The headmaster stared at the young man in front of him, loathing that it had come to this. What was worse was that the boy completely knew it as well. He was slouched down as far as he could possibly go in the chair in front of the desk, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking with interest at his white tennis shoes.

"Mr. Silver," he began strongly, "You know why you are here, and you know what I must do as well. You have given me no choice in the matter. I have given you chance after chance, but I gave you an ultimatum last time, and you did not heed it, Mr. Silver."

The seventeen year old addressed as Mr. Silver muttered a, "yes sir," not bothering to look up.

"As much as I would like to give you yet another chance, because of the unfortunate accident with your mother, I cannot. Especially since you sent five students, five, Mr. Silver, to the mediwitch in serious condition. This is a private academy of magic, and many parents are paying a very large sum of money to send their children here. While other institutions may be happy with handing out detention after detention, we are not. Despite the fact that you surpass our high standard of intelligence, perhaps more than any student we have seen recently, you have proven time and again that you cannot hold up to our high standard of behavior."

"I have made an effort," the young man said, scowling. This was tedious for him, especially as he _also_ knew that the headmaster knew that the circumstances of his behavior weren't what they really seemed.

"I know you have made an effort, and I would like to keep you here, but the school board of directors disagrees. However, I have taken the opportunity to help you find another school. Another very good school with a good opportunity for you as well, Mr. Silver."

Now, with complete interest, the young man looked up with his color-changing hazel eyes. They looked very catlike today, a yellow-green.

"Headmaster, you've found another school that would be willing to take me?"

"Yes, I have, because I would like to see you excel, Mr. Silver. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School is an old friend of mine from the days of Grindelwald, and I have taken the liberty of contacting him for two reasons."

The boy cocked his head of black hair with interest.

The headmaster continued, "First of all, Hogwarts is a great school with a great reputation. Second of all, Mr. Silver, Hogwarts has a very highly esteemed Potions master, the best in Europe, and I know your talent in that subject is beyond compare. Perhaps if you behave yourself and mind your manners you can convince him to apprentice you."

The boy's eyebrows raised slightly and new seeds of hope filled his unnatural eyes, and this was the only gift the headmaster could make to him. Politics dictated what he must do, whether he agreed with it or liked it, but he would not send this boy from his school without any hope for a future armed with only a painful past and a lot of hate. He would not hammer the proverbial last nail into the coffin because the boy was a blood traitor, or illegitimate, or any number of the other suggestions he had heard from his staff.

"It is my sincere hope, Mr. Silver, that you make the best out of this opportunity."

"Thank you, sir," he said solemnly, " and I'm sorry." Perhaps the man _was_ sympathetic to why he was such a problem. Afterall, Headmaster Stangle did not seem like a prejudiced or a stupid man.

"No need to apologize, Mr. Silver, you have done that enough previously. Since you cannot return here in a few weeks when term starts, I would like for you to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore soon to review your schedule. Perhaps I can arrange for you to meet Professor Snape as well, he is the Potions master."

The boy raised an eyebrow at this, not willing to believe that this school would hold any better future for him than Scyon Academy. After everything, he'd be lucky if he could sell himself for all the galleons in his trust fund to a Master willing to apprentice him.

Headmaster Dumbledore stared at the transfer papers in front of him, wondering what exactly he had agreed to.

Although plenty of his own students had very colorful school records, such as the Weasley twins, he was a little wary of the boy who had been in at least one major fight each year of his schooling that was reported to the headmaster. He had a suspicion that there were quite a few that did not make the file. Not to mention numerous of other minor infractions that were reported - particular cases of insubordination with one professor. Many of them indeed.

His old friend Headmaster Stangle had assured him that the boy had a very good heart and an able mind, but was a little rough around the edges. A little rough seemed to be a bit of an understatement. Stangle had been fairly vague, which made the headmaster think that there was more to the story that Stangle could not communicate, perhaps for more political reasons.

To tell the truth, the young man's OWL results were impressive. More OWLs than he had seen from one of his students in quite a few years. The Silver boy had O's in both the practical and written for five subjects (Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Runes, and Herbology) and a perfect mark in Potions, not missing a single point. Silver had another slew of O's and E's on top of that, including those in several subjects not taught at Hogwarts. It was remarkable actually, but also explained how the headmaster had managed to keep him enrolled in such an elite private school for so long despite his behavioral record.

When the sound of his gargoyle moving met his ears, he quickly closed the file open on his desk and waited to see what this young man looked like. Perhaps another Draco Malfoy, especially coming from Scyon Academy...pureblooded and arrogant.

The knock on the door came swiftly, and Dumbledore opened it with a wave of his hand.

It opened to reveal a very tall young man, with perfect milky skin, and long, wavy blue-black hair that was falling out of it's tie at the back of his neck. What was most striking, however, were his very singular eyes. They were hazel, patterned like a fireburst, with many different colors in them. They were currently looking observant. Overall, he appeared as if he would be a quiet person, one that preferred to examine everything around him. The headmaster was very good at judging character at a glance. This boy certainly did not hold himself like a Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Silver, I presume," the headmaster stated, looking over his spectacles

"Yes, sir," the boy answered, nodding politely.

"Well, well, sit down. Lemon Drop?"

The young man stared at him softly with curiosity.

Dumbledore kept his watch carefully on the young man, afterall, his previous school was known for harboring some very ardent and wealthy purebloods. If the young man was impulsive and had a quick trigger for fighting, the headmaster did not see it in his demeanor.

"Lemon drop, Headmaster?"

The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling as always, but behind them in the recesses of his mind, this was a little test.

"Oh yes, they are a Muggle candy, Mr. Silver. One of our many Muggleborn students introduced me to them a few years ago. Try one."

The boy's expression didn't change at all with the references to Muggles. His only movement was to lean forward in his seat and look at the proffered dish in speculation.

"Rather ordinary looking, sir. I suppose if they are Muggle candies they are rather harmless," he said, taking one out.

The headmaster began to wonder if the boy just took the candy to be polite. Nevertheless, he was the first person in a long time who had actually taken a lemon drop from him. He smiled genuinely.

"So, Mr. Silver, let's get started, shall we? First, I'd like to talk about why you were expelled from your old school?"

For a few moments, the young man didn't speak, but then he began cautiously.

"I'd prefer to leave the past behind me, sir," he said, but the headmaster could feel something there just behind the boy's eyes.

This was not going to be easy.

"I'd prefer we leave it there as well, Mr. Silver, but I'd like to know the circumstances if I am to allow you to attend this school?"

The boy stared at him, a most impertinent look on his face. It was pretty clear that he had no intentions of explaining himself.

"Mr. Silver, you will explain or you will not be attending this school either, or perhaps I will get some Veritaserum."

A small sardonic smile appeared on the boy's face, "I am immune, Headmaster."

This statement surprised Professor Dumbledore, but he pushed that back in his mind and said, "Then I repeat, you will explain, or you will not attend Hogwarts."

The stare that served as his answer did not make him want an explanation any less. Perhaps a different mode of questioning would get him the answers that he wanted.

"Do you enjoy getting into trouble, Mr. Silver?"

Shifting, as if being wary of a possible trap, the boy answered, "No, sir."

"Do you enjoy dueling and fist fights?" he asked, as if this were surely the correct answer.

"No, sir."

"Do you enjoy detentions?"

"No, sir," he answered once more, this time looking down at his knees.

"Then why have you been involved in so many confrontations, Mr. Silver? Right or wrong there must be some explanation. I have not passed any judgment on you."

After a few minutes of calm appraisal, he answered, "I was not the instigator, sir. I was repeatedly attacked and no one sought to do anything about it. If I didn't fight back and turn the odds in my favor a bit, well, the others were just as violent as I and there were more of them."

Frowning at how this could be the case, Dumbledore said, "I have a very difficult time believing that no Professor would do anything to prevent something like that."

The boy scowled darkly, "Now you know why no Professor would do anything about it, sir...You yourself have a hard time believing it. What's more, five of them could be very careful about exactly what was visible and control their curses accordingly. I hardly had that luxury against five of them or more. I countered in any way possible. And what Professor would be willing to stick his neck out for me, sir, given that evidence and the word of five against one?"

This caused Dumbledore to sit back in his seat, needing to put new consideration on this information. Five boys causing enough injury that this boy would be willing enough and desperate enough to break limbs, cause burns, and lacerations to keep it from happening again, or to slow them down at it, was astonishing and horrible.

"You have done some very serious damage in some of these altercations. What did they do to you to merit this?"

"I don't give excuses, and I'm not looking for pity, sir. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Unfortunately, I need to know because you are a certain risk to admit here as well. As you must understand."

The boy turned his head away, set his jaw, and took in a large breath through his nose. All evidence that suggested that the boy had never told anybody about this, ever, and that it was significantly painful to even talk about. Something that perhaps disturbed Dumbledore even more.

Overexaggerated half-truths would have been more welcome to the headmaster's ears, but given the circumstances he felt the boy's words were underexaggerated half-truths. That put a pit in his stomach.

Finally the boy said, very matter-of-factly, "Applied in very short bursts, certain curses, like the Cruciatus, don't leave any marks... That should be enough for you to know, sir. Like I said, I do not wish to discuss it, but I also do not mean any disrespect by it."

"And why would they risk such behavior?" Dumbledore asked, in his most even voice. He did not want to voice disbelief, but he was having a difficult time stomaching this, especially if his friend Stangle had known it was going on.

"You know, Headmaster, that they teach Dark Arts there - not that any of the Professors would want us to use the Unforgiveables on each other. However, there are wards which protect their use from outside, governmental observation and that reduces outside risk. As to why they would risk punishment in school by doing it to me...It's because of my surname...Silver."

Frowning, Dumbledore said, "I'm not sure that I understand."

"The name is fake, sir. I attended an elite private school for pureblooded wizards, and I do not have the slightest inkling of my genealogy. That's rather uncommon and rather speculated about by the other students. There are only so many ways in which I might have a name which is not attached to any pureblood family, none of them desirable in those circles."

"Your mother and father have not talked to you about this matter?"

The ridge between the boy's brow deepened before he said, more quietly than he had been talking, "My father was killed when I was three and my mother died in an accident in her lab a few months ago. She never told me much, sir."

Looking over his spectacles the man asked, "What does this have to do with your behaviour and the other students'?"

The boy shrugged slightly, his face blank. "I was a blood traitor to them, with no place in their world or their school. It was sport to them. I fought back. I had no choice. Most of the Professors felt similarly and those who did not, did not feel it warranted to risk their job and their reputation for someone who was as good as a mudblood in that world. Then they targeted my younger brother. They would hold me and make me watch," he finished angrily, clenching his fists. "And then I would be punished for it, and they would simply get off with whatever I had managed to do to them to keep them off of me or Heru'ur, my brother."

Dumbledore felt very old in that moment and very distressed with the state of things in their world. The Dark and the Light were at distinct odds and those that were caught in the middle perhaps paid the price. All because of Tom Riddle.

This boy had paid the price and was perhaps more violent and impulsive for it, but was also far older in spirit than his seventeen years betrayed.

He believed the Silver boy, of course, because his intuitions told him that the boy was not lying, indeed, who would make a story like that up? But, moreoever he remembered what Stangle had said to him, "He is a smart boy, Albus, and he has a good heart that has been torn through some very difficult things. You will see this in him if you talk to him. He cannot stay here, he is like a caged animal here. He must go somewhere else for his own good, and all I can do for him is find him another school."

In a cryptic sort of a way Stangle had told him the entire story, but it made much more sense now.

After laying out a schedule of classes for the boy, Dumbledore sat back in his chair a little more comfortably, his thoughts less burdened. This was a second chance and perhaps a second chance which held much less pain in it for the future.

"I hope that you will find our curriculum here challenging enough for you. Headmaster Stangle has told me that you show exceptional skill in Potions?"

The boy shrugged slightly, a strange glitter appearing in his eyes, though otherwise unapparent on his face. "Yes, sir, my mother owned an apothecary. Wandwork is standard for most wizards and quite simple for one to learn if one possesses the necessary power, however, Potions is a much more ancient art and requires much more skill or gift."

"Such a carefully rehearsed speech," Came a snide voice from the doorway.

The headmaster knew that statement had come from Severus Snape, whom he had previously invited to this meeting, once he had gotten through some of the difficult truths of Mr. Silver's transfer.

Dumbledore watched as the comment slid off the boy, and he registered no insult on the boy's face. Mr. Silver simply stood up and turned around to face Professor Snape. He gave him a gracious nod.

Snape just raised his eyebrow in disdain.

"Severus, this is Osiris Silver. Mr. Silver this is Professor Snape, our Potions master."

Osiris nodded again, "Your reputation preceeds you, sir. It's an honor to meet you."

"Such flippant and flattering speech will hardly get you anywhere with me, Mr. Silver," the man said, scowling, holding his chin a little higher and looking down his nose.

Dumbledore chuckled, "He's simply upset that you have also gotten a perfect score on your Potion's OWL."

"Hardly, Headmaster." The dark man answered with a scoff.

Osiris was staring hard at him, and the headmaster could finally begin to see the seedlings on insult implanted on his face.

"I do not flatter anyone, sir," he said flatly. He was being insulted for merely being polite. It was an offense he was used to, but it was an offense that put him on his guard by habit.

Severus' eyes narrowed in on him and he took a step closer.

The headmaster could feel that tempers were getting ready to flare as he looked from one pale face to the other.

The young man continued, trying his best not to let the anger show through his voice, "I've read your work. I have no need to flatter you, Professor, it wouldn't really be flattery would it? As to an ulterior motive...my skill and knowledge in the area will speak just fine for itself, sir."

"Really, Mr. Silver," Severus said snidely. Then he continued in a much more sinister manner, "I'll let your cheek pass without detention this time, since school is not in session, consider it a gift."

The boy stared back at him, his face impassive and unthreatened.

Professor Snape was not used to this lax of a reaction, especially from a new student. The lack of response from this pale boy, not matter how smart he supposedly was, registered as insult.

The tall, intimidating man walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar. "However, I do not tolerate students taking that tone with me. If you are to be in my class, you best learn that and some humility."

The Potion's master registered the flinch in the boy when he had grabbed him and then saw it carefully masked away behind his abnormal looking eyes. He let go when he heard the headmaster clear his throat. He knew that a, "Severus," would follow it if he did not desist, and he hated being reminded of his own days as a student, especially being in the headmaster's office.

Osiris looked at the floor after he realized that he did not want to start poorly at this new school and that he had over-reacted. Even though the Professor reminded him of another Professor he cared not to think about, he was not that man. A summer holiday worth of time had not been enough to shake those memories from just behind his awareness at every moment he breathed.

"I'm sorry, sir, that was out of line. It won't happen again," he said, trying to rein himself back in. It wouldn't be very good for his future to make an enemy of this professor if he wanted to work in potions

"Out of line indeed," he said, then he turned to Dumbledore, "What is it that you called me here for other than to run this boy's Potions OWLs by me."

Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at the man, "I was hoping that you would accompany Mr. Silver to get his books."

"I can manage myself, sir," Osiris said, hastily.

"I am sure that you could, Mr. Silver, however we have more wards on the castle at the moment which may make it difficult for you to get back on the grounds. In addition, there is no floo connection or authorized portkeys."

"Yes, sir," he said, rather dejectedly, not wanting to argue and get a second lecture.

"Why do I have to take him, Headmaster? I have to restock the infirmary before term starts, I hardly have the time. Filch can take him."

"No, Severus, I would like for you to take him. Perhaps if you act human he will offer to help you restock the necessary potions. I am sure he is more than capable of brewing the simple ones, and he is here with nothing to do for two weeks."

"I am not letting him near a cauldron unsupervised, Headmaster. Perhaps I will have him organize the storeroom or prepare ingredients for me," he added, viciously. It was the closest thing to a detention he could give the boy for his cheek earlier. An opportunity he would not miss. The boy would most certainly learn not to cross him, and he wouldn't even have to wait for term to start.

"Now I don't think-," Dumbledore began, he had been hoping that Severus would be a good person to understand Mr. Silver. They had very similar histories and, apparently, temperments.

"It's alright, sir, it's only right for me to help in whatever way the Professor will let me if he is wasting his time taking me. Especially since he is busy. I don't mind," he said quietly.

Snape picked up on the disappointment in the boy's voice, even if the headmaster had not, just as he had noted how the boy's head perked up at the mention of him brewing the simpler potions. _Good_, he figured, _let him be disappointed. The impertinent brat can start learning a little humility now._

"If there isn't anything else, Headmaster…"

"Actually, Severus, I need to sort him so that we know where to put him for two weeks. I was hoping after his house is selected, you would show him the way there."

"Am I his personal escort now?" Snape asked, venomously.

"No, but you and I are the only professors here right now…"

"Fine, get on with it then."

Dumbledore stood up with his characteristic twinkle in his eye, reached up to the highest shelf, and pulled down the Sorting Hat.

Osiris frowned, slightly bewildered, looking at the tattered hat.

"Here, Mr. Silver, put this on and we shall see which house you will belong to. I am supposing Ravenclaw."

Snape scoffed.

"Why do you say that, sir," Osiris asked.

Dumbledore smiled, "That is the house where the most studious and intelligent among us are generally sorted," he said, but noticing the Professor's incredulous look added, "But perhaps Slytherin is a fair guess as well."

At this Professor Snape scoffed louder and raised an eyebrow in smug appraisal. This boy would learn a few quick and hard lessons if he was sorted into Slytherin.

Osiris put the hat on his head and then exclaimed, "I'm what?" in response to what the hat had said to him.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. Snape rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

Then Osiris muttered, "Well I suppose that _is _true…"

The Professor has resorted to tapping his foot impatiently on the floor while the hat sat atop Mr. Silver's head for what seemed like a very long time.

Finally it blurted out "Slytherin!"

Dumbledore looked at the Professor very pleased, which was surprising for a sort to Slytherin, because it wasn't the headmaster's favorite house even though he tried to be objective. Dumbledore knew that if the boy wanted to try and convince Snape to apprentice him eventually, that was the best house for him.

Professor Snape eyed him dangerously before saying, "Very well then. I expect a lot from my house, Mr. Silver, you will learn not to disappoint or face severe consequences."

Osiris took the hat off his head and looked at the man with a little apprehension. Nobody had told him anything about Hogwarts. "Your house?" he asked, not knowing the concept.

"Ah, Mr. Silver, I completely overlooked that fact that you do not understand how our system works," the headmaster began, "Hogwarts has four houses, if you will, that students belong to, each best fit according to the students' traits. Each house has a professor as the head of that house. Because there are so many students here, each head serves as the headmaster or mistress for their house and is responsible for handling their students. Professor Snape is Head of Slytherin."

"I see," Osiris said, hoping that the man's obvious distaste for him wouldn't last his entire career at Hogwarts.

"Don't worry, Mr. Silver, Professor Snape is well known for favoring the students of his house above all others. Members of your house bear the least of his foul tempers," he said, with a slight chuckle.

"Gryffindor rumors," Snape spat, "I am no easier on my house than any other house. I just do not make a spectacle of it. You will find that my students know very well not to cross me or misbehave."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was serious or if he was just saying that to try and intimidate Osiris. He had to note that none of Professor Snape's students were disrespectful of him and generally they were well behaved. The clear exception being Mr. Malfoy and friends. Perhaps he was telling the truth.

"Well, Severus, my business with Mr. Silver is done, if you would like to escort him downstairs."

With a slight snarl, he said, "Come along, Mr. Silver."

Osiris nodded to the headmaster and said, "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled at him as Osiris followed the Potions master out the door.

Professor Snape didn't say a word to Osiris on the trip down to the dungeon, and Osiris did not say a word to him either. When they reached the Slytherin dormitories, Snape said "Viper" and walked in.

"Mr. Silver, I take it that you are a pureblood being sorted into this house?"

Osiris frowned, wondering what that was supposed to mean and not liking the possible implications, before saying, "Yes, sir." This was sounding much too similar to Scyon for him.

"I suppose that your family will be willing to pay for you to have your own room?"

"Erm, yes sir, of course," he answered. It didn't particularly matter that he didn't have a family, and he wasn't about to announce it right then. He was on trust anyway and had plenty of money.

Snape began walking across the common room and Osiris followed while looking at the black leather couches and Slytherin banners.

"You will stay here then. It is the only single room available. I do suggest, however, that you keep it down as it shares one wall with my quarters."

"Yes, sir."

Snape stared down his nose at the boy, folding his arms over his chest and the front of his black robes with them. "Very well. Tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock, you will meet me in my office, which is two doors down to your left. We will take care of getting your supplies then. During these two weeks you will not be doing as you please, causing upheaval all over the castle. You should read up on your texts so that you will be ready for your classes. There is also some holiday work you should complete. If you want to go anywhere or do anything else, you will ask my permission. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."


	2. Old Habits Die Hard

Chapter 2  
  
Old Habits Die Hard  
  
Osiris was certain to wake up with plenty of time to get ready for his trip to Diagon Alley. He had no desire to anger Professor Snape. He pulled on his black trousers and black boots, then buttoned his grey collared shirt up, tucked it into his trousers and fastened his belt. He left his cuffs undone and rolled the sleeves up to the middle of his forearm before tying back his hair. He stared at himself in the mirror, satisfied that he looked alright.  
  
Feeling a little bit of dread, he knocked on the door that the Professor had told him to be at.  
  
A short, "Come in," answered him.  
  
He opened the door slowly and quietly. Professor Snape was wearing the same things he was wearing the day before and he was sitting at his desk writing.  
  
The dark man didn't even bother looking up when he said, "You are five minutes early, Mr. Silver."  
  
"I suppose so, sir," he said as amiably as he could.  
  
The Professor looked up and fixed a black glare on him harshy, before looking back down, "You will wait then."  
  
"Yes, sir," he answered, making a move to sit down in the chair opposite the man's desk.  
  
"Did I tell you to sit, Mr. Silver?"  
  
Osiris stopped and straightened up quickly, "No, sir."  
  
"Then do not presume to sit down."  
  
At exactly 8 o'clock the Professor stood up.  
  
"Let's make this quick, Mr. Silver. I have potions to brew and you have ingredients to prepare and a store room to organize."  
  
By the time they were ready to head back Osiris was beginning to be worn thin by Snape's grating remarks and his stomach was rumbling heavily.  
  
Snape had three large bags from the Apothecary and Osiris had shrunken his bag and was putting them into his pocket. The Professor glanced at him scornfully before saying insidiously, "Carry these, Mr. Silver."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
The Professor stopped dead in his tracks and put the bags down, "I asked you to carry the bags, Mr. Silver, or are you daft?"  
  
"All three of them, Professor?"  
  
Snarling at the boy, his own patience wearing thin, "I was only going to have you carry two, but now you can carry all three for your cheek. When I ask you to do something, Mr. Silver, that does not invite a conversation."  
  
"But sir-."  
  
"One more word and I will have you carrying ingredients from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts all year long!"  
  
Osiris closed his mouth mid-sentence and picked up the bags. After apparating they walked the rest of the way up to the school in silence. Once in the dungeons the Professor commanded him to unload the bags and after that start preparing ingredients for a regenerative potion.  
  
The Professor watched Osiris out of the corner of his eye, noting that he was not mumbling or complaint or hesitating. He had to admit that the boy had tough skin. The boy had put up minimal fight, and he had not reacted poorly to Severus' harshness. He simply took it. Severus could tell from the first moment that the boy was strong-willed and could cause problems if not kept under a heavy hand. Severus figured that if he laid down the boundaries right away and was a strict disciplinarian, he would not have any problems from the boy who had gotten kicked out of his previous school for being a behavior problem.  
  
Dumbledore didn't know that he knew that, but Severus had his own connections. As soon as Dumbledore had told him about the transfer student who excelled in Potions, he had put those connections to use.  
  
If Severus was sure of one thing, he was sure that he could keep control of the boy. Afterall, he was known as being mean and harsh and strict to all of the students, but what they didn't realize was that he could be much tougher on them. Most of them, however, could not handle that. It was clear to him that this was what Osiris Silver needed...clear boundaries and the expectation of unwaivering respect.  
  
After about two hours of hearing nothing out of the boy other than the sound of slicing, Osiris' voice finally cut through the near silence of the cauldron.  
  
"Professor?" he tested carefully.  
  
"What is it, Mr. Silver," he said loudly.  
  
"Well, sir, I'm sorry if this is-."  
  
"Out with it or do not waste my time on your mumbling."  
  
Osiris shifted his weight around and cleared his throat, "I didn't know where to go to get breakfast this morning, sir, so I haven't eaten all day and it's nearly 3 o'clock."  
  
Severus stared at him for a moment. He, himself, had eaten a rather large breakfast and was now beginning to notice that he was hungry. If the boy hadn't eaten, he must be bad off.  
  
"Come here, Mr. Silver," he said, waving him over impatiently.  
  
Osiris put his knife down carefully, pursed his lips and walked over to the Professor, half expecting to get yelled at for interrupting him.  
  
"Do you know what potion this is Mr. Silver?"  
  
Quickly, Osiris looked at the ingredients by the cauldron and the looked back up at the Professor, "Dreamless Sleep, sir."  
  
"All of the ingredients are added. Finish this, bottle it, clean this up, and I will see to it that the house elves have something waiting for you in your room. Come by my office in two hours, and I will have those holiday assignments for you for at least some of your classes."  
  
Osiris nodded, a few of his long black hair sticking to the sweat on his face. The fire under Dreamless Sleep had to be very hot and the room was reflecting that.  
  
Severus looked intently with his black eyes into the boy's multicolored eyes and said, "I trust you can do that, Mr. Silver."  
  
The Professor knew that he had to give at least a small reward for the boy doing menial work all afternoon without any protest.  
  
"Yes, sir, no problem."  
  
When the Professor walked out of the room Osiris heaved a large sigh and rubbed his temple with his right hand as he stirred the potion slowly with his left. His head was pounding, his stomach trying to eat itself, and he felt like he was about ready to pass out.  
  
  
  
Osiris spent his mornings reading his books and working on his homework. His afternoons and evenings Osiris spent preparing ingredients or cleaning and organizing the store room. He had not known that he was to do that for two weeks as payment for the man spending one morning with him getting his things in Diagon Alley, but the man kept expecting it of him and he was not about to disagree. The Professor was not treating him like an annoyance anymore, but he was a far cry away from being liked. It was more as if he were being tolerated, but he was satisfied with that.  
  
If he was to eventually plead with the man to apprentice him, he wanted to stay on his tolerable side. Osiris wasn't sure if the man even had a good side.  
  
The Welcoming Feast had gone fairly well. His house appraised him with curiousity but no one spoke to him, but this didn't upset him. After his previous school, he was happy with just being left alone.  
  
Once announcements were over, he began heading back to Slytherin with the other students. One, in particular, was glaring at him, but he simply ignored it or appeared to.  
  
When he came out of his room later that night, carrying a potion's book he had ordered, the blonde boy that had been staring at him started walking up to him.  
  
"Is there something in particular you are staring at," he asked the boy, snidely, curling his lip.  
  
"What sort of a name is Silver, anyway? Are you some sort of a Mudblood?"  
  
Osiris stiffened in response, memories of past experiences floating just behind his awareness.  
  
"No, I'm no Mudblood," he hissed.  
  
"Well, only one explanation left then. If your family lost the family name, you must be a blood traitor."  
  
Osiris walked up to the boy and looked down at him viciously, although the other boy did not back down.  
  
"I'm no blood traitor either, so mind your own fucking business," he snarled.  
  
Draco smirked evilly, "A bastard then," he said evenly, "Your mother must have been a shame and a whore."  
  
Osiris couldn't fight it any longer, he turned around to walk away.  
  
"Nothing to say blood bastard?"  
  
He wheeled back around and punched the blonde in the face hard with a left jab. A resounding crack went through the room as Draco fell backwards, his nose broken and spewing blood.  
  
Goyle was the first to jump up and respond, grazing his fist across Osiris' cheek as he jumped back.  
  
Crabbe couldn't get to him before he double shotted Goyle to the stomach and to the head. Crabbe grabbed the lean boy out of mid-air as he lunged for Draco again, who was pinching his nose, blood soiling his shirt.  
  
Osiris brough his elbow around and jabbed it backwards, luckily hitting the other boy in the eye. Goyle was finally up and got him full in the side of his face this time, splitting his lip.  
  
Suddenly his arms were arrested from behind, although he lunged furiously to be released so that he could get to Draco again.  
  
"Mr. Silver! If I have to stun you, you will wish you never came to this school."  
  
Osiris' body went almost immediately slack when he realized whose body belonged to that voice. He was wheeled around by the strong death grip on his upper arm.  
  
"Profe-."  
  
"Silence!" The Professor bellowed.  
  
Osiris looked down.  
  
The Potion's Master took in the scene carefully. Not even the first day of classes and the boy had managed to break Draco's nose nearly off his face, give Crabbe a very swollen black eye, and Goyle a black eye and bloody nose.  
  
"What happened here, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco took one bloody hand away from his nose and pointed at Osiris, "He bloody attacked me for looking at him!"  
  
"Fucking liar!" Osiris exclaimed, lunging forward again.  
  
"I said _SILENCE_! Mr. Silver! Now shut your mouth unless you want to make things worse for yourself," he yelled tightening his grip on Osiris' arm. "Now control yourself or you will find yourself expelled from this school as well."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle snickered stupidly.  
  
"You two take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing," he said to Crabbe and Goyle, "You're coming with me," he said to Osiris, pushing him forward by the arm.  
  
He released the boy's arm when he entered his office. His breaths were hot and fast, coming out of his nose. He tried to calm himself somewhat, not trusting himself not to lose his temper in the worst way.  
  
"Sir, I-."  
  
"_Mr. Silver! Did I ask you a question?"_  
  
Osiris looked down at his shoes, "No, sir."  
  
"_Then assume that you do not have permission to talk!_ Or do I need to yell silence once again?"  
  
The boy shook his head 'no', his jaw set and contrary, his eyes pleading with remorse.  
  
"Perhaps I did not make myself clear when I first met you, Mr. Silver, but I clearly thought that I said that I do not tolerate such behavior from the members of my house. Or are you so daft that you don't think that fighting is against the rules here at Hogwarts even though it is against the rules at your former school."  
  
"No, sir," he answered slowly.  
  
"No, sir, I'm not so daft to think that fighting is acceptable behavior or no, sir, you didn't make yourself clear? And don't you look down like you are going to avoid me!"  
  
His eyes turning a grey-green color, he looked up, "No, sir, I'm no so daft that I think fighting is acceptable."  
  
"It is not even the first day of classes Mr. Silver! You will explain yourself!"  
  
Osiris looked at him, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say.  
  
Quickly, Professor Snape closed the distance between them and his hand flew out to point straight in Osiris' face.  
  
Osiris flinched heavily and almost stepped back.  
  
"Answer me, or by Merlin I'll have you on the train straight home tonight."  
  
Severus noticed pain shadow the boy's face quickly and Osiris said, "He was in my face, sir, asking if I was a mudblood, saying that if I wasn't I must be a blood traitor. I said I wasn't and he said that I must be bastard then with a whore for a mother. I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and just kept at it. I'm sorry, sir, please don't expell me."  
  
Severus went straight for home when Osiris said that, thinking that if the boy flinched that badly when he pointed into his face that someone, most likely his father, hit him or beat him on a regular basis.  
  
"Perhaps I should just floo your _father_ and let _him_ take _care_ of you."  
  
The Professor wasn't prepared for the boy to look down, instead thinking that he would plead with him to not floo his father, but Osiris did look down and for a moment Severus thought that the boy might just start to cry.  
  
"I don't have a father, sir," he answered looking back up in his eyes, "He was killed when I was three, he was a Death Eater."  
  
For a few seconds Severus was taken aback. That was surely not the response he was expecting.  
  
He recovered quickly, "Show me your arm."  
  
The boy was seventeen, it was possible that he had already been marked. He was just the sort the Dark Lord would like, intelligent and vengeful.  
  
"Sir?" Osiris asked, confused.  
  
Professor Snape took it as opposition, grabbed the boy by the collar and pushed him back into the wall before letting him go and grabbing his wrist tightly and painfully. He pulled up Osiris' sleeve and almost let out a sigh of relief, but he could not because of his position.  
  
He dropped the boy's wrist like a dead weight.  
  
"Mr. Silver, if I have to keep reminding you not to look away from me when I am talking to you..."  
  
Osiris looked back up, his hair sticking to his face again and blood trailing down his chin from his split lip.  
  
"You are on restriction for this entire term, Mr. Silver, which means all of your priveledges are revoked. There will be no quidditch, no Hogsmeade weekends, and no socializing. That's just for _starters_."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Now, who has hit you?" he asked, as if it were the logical question to follow.  
  
"_What_?"  
  
"I asked you a question, you do not answer it with a question."  
  
Osiris bit his upper lip, since his lower lip he couldn't bite.  
  
"No one, Professor."  
  
"No one," Severus asked incredulously. "Don't you lie to me, Mr. Silver."  
  
Osiris' face implored, "I'm not lying to you, Professor Snape."  
  
"You _aren't_?" He pulled his hand up, reared it back, and took a step forward.  
  
As if it were on command, Osiris flinched heavily again.  
  
"Do you take me for an idiot, Osiris?" He asked, using the boy's first name for the first time.  
  
"No, sir," he said penitently, without offering any other information  
  
"Fine then. For every minute you stand there not telling me what I am asking, you will have a week's detention with me, and I promise it will not be pleasant."  
  
Osiris stared at him, knowing that he couldn't answer the Professor's question for his own safety, even though he wanted to. He also had the feeling that he could not blatantly lie. He was not that good at occluding, and he felt the Professor sifting on the outskirts of his mind already.  
  
"That's one week, Mr. Silver."  
  
Osiris crossed his arms and bit his lip again.  
  
"Two weeks..."  
  
Osiris frowned, "A teacher, alright sir, a teacher I used to have."  
  
"You are occluding, Mr. Silver, very impressive. However, that itself tells me that you aren't telling me the whole truth but only part of it."  
  
Severus closed the ground between them.  
  
Osiris stepped back protectively.  
  
"Mr. Silver, I may be strict and I may be harsh, but I will not strike you. You are not my son and Professors at Hogwarts are not allowed to beat students, however much they think they might like to or should."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"We'll make it an even month for giving me part of the truth, Mr. Silver, perhaps you will tell me the entire truth at a later date."  
  
"But, sir!"  
  
"No buts, Mr. Silver, so far as I am concerned I am letting you off easy. You answered me with half the truth at two weeks, by the time you told me the real truth it would have been at much more than a month. Am I correct?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," he answered dejectedly.  
  
"Seven o'clock, every night, and seven in the morning on the weekends as well," he said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Seven every night? Including the weekends? And seven in the morning on the weekends, sir?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Silver, and don't sound so impertinent. I still feel I am letting you off easy and would gladly tack on some more if necessary to curtail this unacceptable behavior pattern of yours."  
  
Osiris raised an eyebrow as well, "Pattern, Professor?"  
  
"I know your school record, boy, so don't think I am gullible enough to see any of this as a first time occurance."  
  
Osiris knew better than to protest again. He knew he was no longer on the man's tolerable list, but now back on his annoyance list. So much for any chances he had tried to develop before term started.  
  
"May I go back to my room now, Professor Snape?"  
  
Quirking an eyebrow with slight frustration, "No, and I do not ever advise you to ask a stupid question like that again. When I am done with you I will tell you to get out of my sight."  
  
"Sorry, sir."  
  
"You'll be sorrier yet," the man said off-handedly, he walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a jar, "Come over here."  
  
Osiris walked over to him with a curious look on his face. The Professor handed him a cloth and said, "Wipe the blood off your face."  
  
After Osiris complied, Severus took the cloth back from him and dipped a corner into the goo.  
  
"Tilt your head up," he said before spreading the goo all over Osiris' bottom lip. "I will speak to Mr. Malfoy about his mouth and educate him about certain facts about your former school and that pureblood must be established. If he says anything else at all to you, do not take care of it yourself. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, sir... Thank you, Professor Snape."  
  
"Don't make me regret not expelling you, Mr. Silver," he said, to regain a measure of his intimidation. "Now I'm done with you, you may go."  
  
Osiris nodded at him and left.  
  
As Severus watched him go through the door, he reflected on exactly what is was that made him not give him detention for everyday the entire year. He knew precisely what it was. He, himself, knew what it felt like to be teased and ridiculed, and he hadn't dealt with it any better than Silver did. Not to mention the flinch the boy had...


	3. Detention

Chapter 3   
Detention  
  
Osiris' lip hurt the next day when he tried to talk or eat, which was a bit of a fiasco when McGonagall asked him a question in class. All she had to do was look from him to Draco Malfoy to know that something had happened.  
  
Other than that, the day went by without any further hitches. Professor Snape must have said something to Malfoy, because the boy said not a word to him, but was very content to simply stare at him. Osiris simply stared back, which he of course did not consider baiting at all.  
  
Seven o'clock came much to quickly. He had not seen Professor Snape all day and was not looking forward to his detention.  
  
When he walked down the corridor of the dungeons, he noticed a door open to one of the rooms. He assumed it was the Potion's classroom and peered in. The Professor was sitting at the desk in the corner reading something. He rapped on the open door.  
  
"Sir?" he said, cautiously.  
  
"You can't serve a detention in the hallway, Mr. Silver."  
  
Osiris moved into the room and walked up toward the desk. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets nervously.  
  
Severus looked up at him briefly and then let out an inaudible sigh. The boy had already cleaned and organized his store room before school had started and had prepared all of the ingredients. Even he had not expected to give someone detention so early on in the term.  
  
He marked his place in the book. Severus wasn't going to let him get off with something as mindless as writing lines. Apparently, Mr. Silver was very intelligent and the Professor had found a way he could capitalize on that.  
  
"You will be reading through those books there," he said pointing at a stack of ten thick tomes, "And looking for ingredients whose primary property is anticoagulation and secondary property is improving oxygen efficiency. Then you will write them down for me with a reference."  
  
Osiris looked at the books and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Still looking for a way to create an effective class 4 snake venom based poison antidote, Professor?"  
  
The Professor's head snapped up. He vaguely remembered Osiris saying that he had read some of his work before, but he hadn't thought it possible that the boy understood any measure of it.  
  
"What makes you say that, Mr. Silver," he asked, curtly, interested in what the boy knew, but not wanting to seem impressed.  
  
Osiris looked up from where he had been standing examining the books. "Well, sir, the drawback of your snake venom antidote research was that it could not be used for a few snake venoms which are both necrotics and neurotoxins, such as the Southern Mojave. You cannot use the antidotes for each type together because they are more poisonous than the venom when combined. The antidote for the necrosis is simpler with the main ingredient being an anticoagulant and blood oxygenator. It would only make sense to try and find a way to make that antidote compatible with the one for neurotoxicity."  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes and stared at Osiris, who was still reading the titles of the books. Perhaps Albus was right...the boy was fairly intuitive when it came to potions. However, all this meant was that the boy had really read his article, surprising in and of itself. He had said that his mother owned an Apothecary, and if this were true he'd probably read some of the Potion's journals just because they were available or heard his mother talking about it.  
  
He frowned, "Familiar with poisons, Mr. Silver?"  
  
Osiris looked up and swallowed, "Yes, sir, my mother did research in that area as well. She...nevermind," he stuttered, then he continued, "It's a very risky area to work in."  
  
That completely explain the boy's knowledge in that area to Severus. It was from his mother's research. He probably was no more knowledgable about potions as a whole than any other student was.  
  
"So then you know what you are looking for, Mr. Silver. Get to it."  
  
Osiris sat down and crossed his legs on the chair, putting one of the large books in his lap.  
  
Three hours later, Professor Snape looked up to find the boy a third of the way through the first book, which was likely about 400 pages. There were two long rolls of parchment in front of him.  
  
"What have you found, Mr. Silver? I do hope that I haven't wasted my time on having you do this." He raised his eyebrow and waiting for the boy to answer him.  
  
Osiris marked the book and closed it before standing up and taking the two pieces of parchment in hand.  
  
He handed the first and shorter one to the Professor, "That's all the ingredients that have both properties so far. "Then he handed him the second one, "That's pairs of ingredients where one ingredient has one of the properties and the other has the second property...when they can be safely combined together."  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow and read the first entry.  
  
"You wrote down the description and the hazard warnings? I didn't ask you to do that, Mr. Silver."  
  
Osiris shrugged, "This way you can probably narrow down the likelier candidates and not have to find the descriptions for all of them in the books and read them. I thought it might save you time, sir."  
  
Narrowing his eyes again, he said, "This time you did no harm, but next time I ask you to do something, you will do what I ask and nothing different."  
  
"Sir, I just thought-."  
  
"I didn't ask you to _think_, Mr. Silver, just do what I ask."  
  
Osiris felt a growl go through him for being treated that way. His jaw was clenched tightly to keep him from saying something that he shouldn't. He had to take these detentions as the only opportunity he had to get back off the annoyance list and that meant keeping his mouth shut.  
  
"Mr. Silver."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The Professor smirked slightly, he was finding that it was not that difficult to keep the boy in line. He could feel the insult and anger radiating off him, but Silver didn't act on it and tried not to show it. In the meantime, he had an entire month to milk the boy of his services to find ingredients for him to try in his research.  
  
"That is all for tonight. You can pick up there tomorrow night."  
  
Osiris looked at him for a moment before turning to go.  
  
"Goodnight, Professor," he said quietly over his shoulder.  
  
  
  
When Osiris walked into the Potion's classroom the next morning a few minutes before the bell, he was surprised to find that there were a lot of students already there. Most of them were clustered toward the middle, Draco Malfoy included. His only seating option was to move to the second row on the other side, to stay as far away from Malfoy as he could.  
  
As the door slammed shut with a BANG! Osiris jumped slightly, but he noticed that no one else did.  
  
Professor Snape stalked to the front, pointed at the board, and a list of instructions appeared.  
  
"Today we are not preparing a potion out of your texts, so you can put those away. Now that I have weeded out those of you who are the most incompetent, perhaps I can teach the rest of you something. Now get working," he barked.  
  
Everyone seemed to jump into action. Snape smirked, this was going to be enjoyable.  
  
Osiris frowned at the instructions and then put up his hand. The Professor either did not see him or was ignoring him.  
  
"Sir?" He called.  
  
"Mr. Silver, shut up, put your hand down, and get to work on your potion. Unless of course you would like a failing mark for the day." He thought to himself, 'So, he's going to be the only one who can figure out it.'  
  
Osiris looked stunned. A few of the other students looked sympathetic. Draco was chuckling to himself, shaking his head.  
  
About five minutes later, the Professor looked back over at Osiris. He was sitting in his seat doing absolutely nothing. Now the Professor was certain that Osiris had figured it out and that the boy was fairly certain. If he had any doubts, he would have started working, but Severus was not going to make it easy for him.  
  
"Mr. Silver, GET TO WORK!"  
  
Glaring, Osiris was nearly yelling back when he said, "I'd _like_ to, sir, but I cannot prepare the potion the way it is instructed to on the board!"  
  
"Five points from Slytherin for your tone, Silver. Now what do you mean you cannot do the potion?"  
  
His cheeks flushed, Osiris answered, "Because it'll blow up."  
  
"Blow up, Mr. Silver?" He asked, incredulously.  
  
"Yes, sir. Combust, spew, and then explode. _Blow up_," he repeated forcefully.  
  
"Another five points, Mr. Silver. If you know so well, then come up here to the board and fix it."  
  
Osiris stood hesitantly, wondering why the Professor was being such a git to him when he must know that Osiris was right. He was clearly doing it on purpose.  
  
When he came up to the front, he stood in front of the board, whipped out his wand, and waved it in front of him.  
  
Towards the end of the instructions a line erased and two new lines appeared instructing the students to use powdered stag antlers, instead of granulated, and to pour it into the cauldron slowly while stirring, instead of simply dumping it into the potion all at once and then stirring.  
  
Osiris turned back around.  
  
"And why would you do it this way, Mr. Silver?"  
  
"Because antlers of any kind contain mineral salts, like sodium chloride, and if you add it all at once without stirring it will react to the previous ingredient which will still be on the top of the potion. At such a high temperature it will ignite and blow up. I don't fancy being burned by hot sodium hypochloride acid."  
  
"Sit down, Mr. Silver."  
  
Osiris sat back down and Professor Snape surveyed the classroom. He pulled out his wand and waved it across the classroom with a loud, "_Evanesco_." Everyone's potion disappeared.  
  
"Every single one of you dunderheads would have blown up a highly caustic potion that would have burned your skin straight off. The only student in this classroom that is in anyway prepared to take a NEWT level potions class is Mr. Silver. NEWT level is not simply about following instructions! You need to know the properties of the ingredients you are working with or you will not pass your NEWT. None of you must have paid any attention at all during the previous five years to the sections of your texts which talks about specific ingredients or retained any of the information you wrote in your _pitiful_ essays. These ingredients should all be familiar to you!"  
  
Everyone looked absolutely aghast.  
  
"Not only was Mr. Silver familiar with them, but he was certain enough that he was correct that he disobeyed me two times and didn't even begin the potion. That's 20 points to Slytherin for having the one student who isn't a _complete_ dolt.  
  
"The rest of you will write a four foot essay on the properties of the ingredients used in this potion, due next class."  
  
Groans insued.  
  
"Mr. Silver, you will write on the ways in which this potion can be improved to be more potent."  
  
Osiris nodded, looking a little embarassed.  
  
"You all will receive failing marks for the day, considering that there is not enough time to finish the potion now. Get out and come back next class prepared to work on the NEWT level."  
  
Osiris started packing up his things, which was not difficult considered that he had not taken much out.  
  
When a shadow fell over his head, he looked up. Professor Snape pulled out a chair and sat down in it, leaning over the table into his face.  
  
"You could have gotten twenty points for Slytherin today, Mr. Silver, if you did not have that attitude. I have told you more than once that I do not tolerate students taking that tone with me. I rarely take points off my own house, I give detentions. You have a problem with impulsivity, Mr. Silver, and your intellect is dwarfed by it considerably." He paused for a moment to drive that point home by a harsh glare. "A little advise, Mr. Silver, if you want someone's respect or regard, the swiftest way is not to try and take it or force it, but to give it to them without condions."  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor."  
  
Standing up, the man glared deeply at him again, "Children say they are sorry, Mr. Silver, and proceed to keep doing what they are doing. I do not care if you are sorry or not. You would not need to say that if you simply did what you know you should do. I was hoping that you were an _adult_, Mr. Silver, and not a _little_ _child_."  
  
Osiris looked back up at him, not having any idea what to say to that. Instead he simply nodded and stood up.  
  
"If someone knows how to bait you, Mr. Silver, you will make it all too easy for them to know exactly where you are weakest and how to get to you," he said as he turned his back and walked up to his desk.  
  
"Yes, sir, I'll keep that in mind."  
  
  
  
Osiris entered the Slytherin common room pensive and unaware of his surroundings. When he made it to his room, he dropped his bag on the floor, and flopped down onto his bed. He had no idea what to make of what had happened in their Potions class and what the Professor had said to him. He was certainly not nice about it at all, even when he was being complimentary, and he certainly had a tone of annoyance whenever he said anything to Osiris. What he didn't understand is why the man would say those things to him about being a child and wanting respect and allowing people to find how to get to you.  
  
He sighed loudly. For such a mean-tempered man, who did not seem to like anyone, let alone a student, he seemed to be rather focused on what Osiris was doing. It wasn't a good feeling. He felt like he was under scrutiny and targeted and pinned down.  
  
In his other school nobody really looked twice at him, especially professors. Sure he was smart, but he was also always breaking rules or getting into fights or dueling. Then he frowned and his mind quoted for him, "You have a problem with impulsivity, Mr. Silver, and your intellect is dwarfed by it considerably."  
  
Scowling, he tossed the book on his bed across the room. It slammed into the wall.  
  
"I'm barely seventeen years old, what the bloody fucking hell d'you expect!" he yelled. "I'm not perfect."  
  
Then his head quoted for him again, "Children say they are sorry, Mr. Silver, and proceed to keep doing what they are doing. I do not care if you are sorry or not. You would not need to say that if you simply did what you know you should do. I was hoping that you were an adult, Mr. Silver, and not a little child."  
  
Osiris growled and pulled his pillow under his head. The one thing that he wanted very badly, he could not have unless Professor Snape granted it. From what he had gathered, the man had never taken on an apprentice. If Snape did not take him, he would not get apprenticed, especially after getting kicked out of school. Most Potions Masters worth their salt would not take on someone cold, without having worked with them at school, especially not someone with his record, no matter how smart he was. Even if he scored a _perfect_ NEWT.  
  
In the last ten years, the Accreditation Board had made apprenticeships in the area longer: from five years to seven years. Nobody would want to work with someone that was a risk or would embarrass them and that is exactly what his record suggested. Not to mention that the apprenticeship itself was tough and rigorous and full of traditions that had been passed down for many centuries. Not that he was not used to that kind of thing...but he would seem to someone not well suited.  
  
He scowled deeply, perhaps he was being too much of a child. One thing was for certain, Professor Snape was sending him a very stern message and it was certain that unless that message was heeded, Osiris had no prayer of expecting anything from the man. Snape was probably right, it seemed very apparent to him now, his intelligence was dwarfed by his behavior and his temper and his impulsivity.   
  
When he went to the classroom that night, Professor Snape was nowhere to be found. Osiris saw the books sitting where they had been the night before, so he sat down and got started. The Professor had said that he would be continuing tonight.  
  
After about an hour, the Professor walked in the open door.  
  
Osiris looked up from the book, the Professor looked as if he was in a very poor mood.  
  
"Mr. Silver, you can abandon that for tonight. One of my stupider seventh years managed to slam into the shelves in the store room. You will clean it up and salvage the ingredients."  
  
"Yes, sir," he said closing the book and heading to the room.  
  
When he walked in his eyebrows went up in shock. How had one student managed to cause all this damage? Almost an entire section of shelves on the wall was broken or disheveled and bottle, vials, and jars were broken. Spilled ingredients were all over the other bottles and the floor. He cringed and bent down. All sorts of things that had been left to sit were mixing. Some of the liquids had fallen into barrels of other ingredients on the floor.  
  
He walked back out into the classroom, "Professor Snape, have you had a chance to look at this, it's really bad, the majority of ingredients on that wall are very contaminated. Did you want me to try and separate it out, sir."  
  
Snape growled loudly, "I was hoping it was not that bad. I've been in my office with the dunderhead for the past hour and a half. He'll have detention with Filch for a month."  
  
The man stood up and walked into the room behind Osiris.  
  
The growl that emanated from the man was enough to make Osiris take a few steps away before facing him cautiously, awaiting an answer.  
  
"Hundreds of galleons worth of damage," he muttered, "One less student in class for sure...carelessness."  
  
"I could try and separate out the dry ingredients at least, sir, it would take a long, long time..."  
  
"No, Mr. Silver, you were right it is all contaminated. You'll have to be careful, there is no way of knowing what has mixed with what."  
  
"Yes, sir, did you just want me to scrap it all and clean up the wall and floor?"  
  
"I'll start disposing of the items on the shelf and you begin cleaning up this mess before it starts smoking, or worse."  
  
"Yes, sir, but I think I can do it all...No offense Professor, but your head looks about ready to explode, and I'd really not like to see that happen, or be around for the fallout that happens afterward."  
  
The Potion's Master let out a huff that almost seemed like a precursor to a chuckle, although one never followed.  
  
"Fine, Mr. Silver, I will be in my office if you need me. Take care, however, I do not need any more careless accidents tonight."  
  
Osiris nodded, "Don't worry, Professor, I've done this before. I won't blow up your classroom, or burn my eyes out, or singe my lungs with fumes, sir."  
  
The Professor nodded before turning on his heel and stalking out, slamming the door to the classroom on his way.  
  
Osiris stared at the mess and decided that he needed to remove everything from the shelves fast and quickly first, in order to clean up the potentially toxic spill. But, not before creating a magical barrier between that wall and the rest of the room, so that none of the other ingredients would be spoiled.  
  
Once the jars and phials and bottles were sitting on the worktables in the classroom, Osiris realized he had no idea where to find anything to clean up the spill. Generally you could just "_Evanesco_" the mess, but unfortunately it was generally not a wise idea to use magic in a room full of potions ingredients. Many ingredients were harmed or changed by magic. And then, of course, there was always the possibility that magical energy could explode any number of ingredients.  
  
He put his hand out and said, "_Accio Alkaline dust_."  
  
When a pound bag came into his hand, he looked a little relieved. He didn't want to have to call the Professor out of his office so soon.  
  
After filling a bucket with rosewater, he added five handfuls of the dust. Then he tossed the content of the bucket over the wall and floor before filling it again.  
  
Once he retrieved some dragonhide gloves, he plunged a thick-bristeled brush into the solution and started scrubbing down the wall and shelves using hard, powerful strokes.  
  
After a dowsing of water and pouring dust onto the puddle of water on the floor, he went back out to the classroom to get ride of the phials and such separately.  
  
One by one he placed each other the bottles into the cauldron and vanished it with a quick wave.  
  
He was so focused on this task, he didn't notice Professor Snape coming back in to check on him, as it was well passed midnight.  
  
With another wave, another jar was disappeared with a very tired sounding, "_Evanesco_."  
  
Snape's eyebrow went up.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, harshly stepping into the room.  
  
"Getting rid of the ingredients, sir," he said with a touch of trepidation, not certain how much Snape had seen.  
  
"You know very well what I mean, Mr. Silver. Without a wand?"  
  
Severus was fast beginning to add things up in his mind. The flinch, his ability to occlude, his age for being a sixth year, his demeanor when getting yelled at, and at least some capability for wandless magic.  
  
"Yes, sir, but only elementary stuff, sir," he was stuttering now.  
  
The stuttering only served to reinforce Snape's suspicions. He stalked forward.  
  
Osiris stumbled back until his back was against the wall with nowhere to go. Professor Snape was not a stupid man, and Osiris knew when he saw the reaction in the Professor's eyes that the man had figured him out. He also knew that the man was coming forward for proof.  
  
He put up his arms protectively, "No, Professor, please don't." When Snape came forward further, Osiris grabbed his arms in a last chance attempt to push him away and prevent the inevitable.  
  
"Show me, Mr. Silver," the Professor said, swatting away the boy's arms.  
  
There was nothing but pure unbridled fear in the boy's catlike eyes. He was cornered and not about to show anything.  
  
"Mr. Silver, don't make me use force, because I will." Severus wanted to know and he wanted to see. He had to be sure.  
  
"Please, sir, I'm not..." He muttered, knowing that the Professor was much stronger than he was.  
  
The Professor snarled, "Fine, Osiris, have it your way."  
  
Without further coaxing, he delivered on his promise and grabbed the boy by the arm and yanked him away from the wall. With the other hand he grabbed Osiris' tied back hair and pushed him into the table, pushing his head down to the top of it. He let go of Osiris' arm and pulled back the boy's shirt at the back of his neck.  
  
Osiris breathed hard into the wood, so close he could smell the ingredients that had sat on it that day.  
  
Severus only released Osiris' hair when he saw what he was looking for: a rune tattoo at the base of the boy's neck. The boy was still futilely muttering "please, sir".  
  
The Professor took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "You are a Druid. That was why you would not tell me who hit you. That is why you said it was a teacher. That is why you occluded. You didn't want me to find out."  
  
Severus had to admit he was a bit stunned.  
  
Osiris slumped down to the floor and sat there.  
  
"Please don't report me, sir."  
  
Standing there with an eyebrow raised, he thought, '_He thinks I am going to report him._'  
  
"Professor, please, you saw my arm, I'm not a Death Eater and I don't want to be. Please, sir, I'm not a Dark wizard, Druids aren't-."  
  
Severus knelt down on the floor next to him and narrowed his glance onto the glassy green-yellow eyes.  
  
"Mr. Silver, stop your entreaties, they don't make a bit of difference."  
  
He realized that came out wrong when horror passed through Osiris' eyes.  
  
"I'll do anything, sir-."  
  
Sighing loudly, he exclaimed very clearly, "Osiris, I am not going to call aurors or report you or tell anyone for that matter."  
  
Quirking an eyebrow delicately in disbelief he said, "You aren't...you won't? But-."  
  
Leaning forward a little and turning to the side, Severus pulled back his own collar and exposed the black rune tattoo on the base of his neck.  
  
"You are a Druid too, Professor?"  
  
"Obviously," he said, standing up. Then he added, "Why else would I have this abnormally high collar."  
  
He reached his hand down and heaved the boy off the floor.  
  
"You scared the bloody hell out of me, sir. I thought I was off to Azkaban."  
  
"Clearly," he said, letting the language go considering the situation.  
  
Osiris raised an eyebrow, "Why did you come at me like that though, sir, if you are one as well?"  
  
"I'm not much for subtlety, Mr. Silver. Besides I could not tell you that I was until I was sure that you were, and I assumed it would be the same for you. I was correct was I not?"  
  
"Yes, sir, I suppose so." He pulled at the front of his shirt, fanning himself. He was sticky with sweat.  
  
"Is the store room done?"  
  
"Yes, sir, except for the dust soaking up the water on the floor. It's all done, sir."  
  
"Very well, you're excused then. I'll get rid of the rest of these bottles. It is nearly 1 o'clock."  
  
Nodding, he said, "Goodnight, Professor."  
  
The man nodded stately back at him and watched him go before clearing up the rest of the bottles. He was beginning to notice that despite his reservations about the boy's attitude and impulsivity, he found it much easier to tolerate Mr. Silver than most any other student. 


	4. Ruined and Runes

Chapter 4   
Ruin and Runes  
  
Another uneventful week passed. Osiris had carried ingredients back from Hogsmeade for three nights in a row to restock the ingredients that were ruined in the spill. The Professor said very little to him, other than to direct questions that no one else answered successfully to him in class. What he did not know was the the Professor found him to be a different kind of intelligent person from Miss Granger. Osiris did not flaunt it and did not feel the need to be recognized by others for it, so he never raised his hand, but he very rarely did not know at least part of the answer to a question raised in class.  
  
It was a Thursday morning of a rainy day outside, when students were huddled up to the door of the locked Potions classroom. Osiris stood in the back leaning against the wall in the corridor. Malfoy sauntered up to the group and stood there for a few moments before looking around. His eyes lighted on a Gyffindor girl and he grinned evilly, but then he caught Osiris out of the corner of his eye and decided that it may be more entertaining to have a go at him.  
  
"So, blood bastard, didn't see you at quidditch tryouts yesterday...Can't play worth a damn or can't fly?"  
  
Osiris frowned at him and then looked forward. He was not about to allow Malfoy the satisfaction of telling him that Professor Snape had put him on restriction for the entire term because of his fight with the blonde.  
  
Draco walked up to him, frustrated with Osiris trying to ignore him. He was much more used to people retorting back.  
  
"What's wrong, Silver. Can't think of a comeback?"  
  
Osiris glared at him, "How about, 'SOD OFF'."  
  
Draco stepped back, "Perhaps you can hit me muggle style and win, that's all about size. How about for real," he asked, whipping out his wand.  
  
Staring at Malfoy, his eyes narrowed, he balled his fists up and stepped forward. His wand was still in his pocket.  
  
It seemed as if no one was about to stop Malfoy from cursing him, and he knew that if he pulled out his own wand, there would be no holding back.  
  
Malfoy's wand hand flew forward as he yelled, "_Dilacero_!"  
  
If he had thought there was any point, Osiris would have thrown himself to the floor to try and avoid the shot, but he knew that Malfoy would just send something else.  
  
When the red jet of light hit him square across his upper abdomen, he was thrown back into the wall with a resounding "thud" and his head smacked against the stone, giving him an instant headache.  
  
Malfoy, grinning sadistically, was about to send another curse onto him, but a forceful "_Expelliarmus_!" found the blonde boy waving an empty hand at him.  
  
Osiris' hand was over his stomach protectively as his features tensed and contracted with a pain he was not about to let Malfoy have the satisfaction of seeing. His shirt was fast becoming covered in a thick, hot, wet substance that could only be blood.  
  
His head was pounding heavily, and he vaguely heard the Professor yelling at Malfoy, but none of it was really understandable. After about a minute, he felt light-headed.  
  
As most of the class stood open-mouthed listening to the Professor yell at Malfoy for perhaps the first time in history, only one person noticed that Osiris wasn't looking so good.  
  
"Professor! He's not looking so well, sir," the girl said, pointing to Osiris, who was swaying on the spot.  
  
The Professor barked at Malfoy to go back to the dormitory as he turned and walked up to Osiris.  
  
It was blatantly obvious that the boy had a concussion from the force of being knocked against the wall. The Professor had not heard what curse Malfoy had cast, but it was obviously something that would throw someone back hard and fast. That was when the Professor noticed that Osiris had his entire arm pressed protectively over his stomach.  
  
Putting a hand on Osiris' shoulder, he pulled the boy's hand away from his stomach. It came back a sticky crimson mess.  
  
"Merlin, we have to get you to the hospital wing now, Mr. Silver," he said, pulling the boy's shirt up to reveal an eight inch laceration across his stomach that was teeming blood and curling at the edges.  
  
Osiris seemed to snap out of it a little bit when the Professor said that. He grabbed the Professor's arm and said, "No, tattoo...can't see."  
  
Severus scowled deeply. Pomphrey would see the Druid mark on his neck if she had his shirt off, which she most certainly would.  
  
The Professor turned to one of the female students that was standing next to the one who had alerted him.  
  
"Miss Granger, make sure that no one is careless with their potions."  
  
He didn't even wait to hear her say "yes, sir" before leading Osiris back towards his office.  
  
Lavender Brown looked at Hermione Granger and said, "Tattoo? D'you think?"  
  
Hermione frowned, Professor Snape was supposedly a spy...He wouldn't let a Death Eater walk around the school, even if he was a student.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Hush, I don't know, Lavender."  
  
  
  
Severus, seething with anger, but tempered by some concern, led Osiris straight past his office and towards his own quarters. This was hardly a wound he could take care of with the boy standing up; he would need to lay down or the concussion was going to lay him down on its own.  
  
As he helped Osiris take his shirt off, he noticed that the boy's eyes were dialated to different sizes. Lightly, he pushed Osiris back onto the couch and held the boy's shirt over the gaping wound.  
  
"Press tightly, Mr. Silver. You have a concussion and with more blood loss, you may just pass out."  
  
When the Professor came back with the necessary supplies, Osiris was cringing and sweating.  
  
"All right, Mr. Silver?"  
  
"Yes, sir, I'm okay," he said laboriously.  
  
He deposited an armful of things onto the table and knelt down next to the sofa. He took two vials in his hand.  
  
"For the pain and for the concussion," the Professor said, holding them out.  
  
Osiris downed them without hesitation, and as he did so, the Professor took the shirt away from the wound.  
  
Gaining some of his faculties back, Osiris watched as the Professor cleaned it off with a wet towel.  
  
"Now, you cannot move when I do this, do you understand?" The man asked, looking at his with serious black eyes.  
  
"A'right," he said.  
  
Sighed deeply, the Professor silently cursed himself that he hadn't had enough foresight to find something to the boy to squeeze. Without further thought, he took Osiris' hand and placed it on his left forearm  
  
"Even with the painkiller, this is going to hurt very badly. It's an acid, but it will cauterize the wound so that it will heal faster. If you feel you are going to move, squeeze down on my arm. It should help you lie still. Clear?"  
  
Osiris frowned in anticipation. Acids were unpleasant on healthy skin, he had no idea how painful it would be on an open wound and the sensitive tissues underneath.  
  
"Yes, sir," he managed say.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
With a ten milliliter pipet, the Professor drew out the pink colored potion and then held it steadily over the right side of the wound. Taking a deep breath of his own, he began slowly tracing the acid across the length of the wound, while Osiris' grip on his left arm made his left hand completely numb.  
  
To give some credit, Osiris didn't move, so it would be worth the bruise the Professor would have on his arm the next day.  
  
After casting a quick healing spell over it, he smeared what was left of the laceration with an antibiotic healing accelerator and wrapped it up. It was now only a small red cut about six inches long and it was beginning to close up.  
  
Satisfied that the situation was taken care of, the Professor fixed a glare on Osiris, who was taking many slow, shallow breaths. No doubt, breathing deeply pulled at the wound too much. He stood up and then sat down on the table in front of the couch.  
  
"Mr. Silver, why did you not stun Mr. Malfoy before he could attack you?"  
  
The boy reached a hand up and ran it through his long, black hair, before pushing most of it behind his ears and off his neck.  
  
"If I took out my wand, sir, I would not have stopped there. If I hadn't been able to hit him with the first try, and he managed to hit me, I would have gone back at him. I would not have been able to keep trying to stun him."  
  
The Professor nodded unconsciously. With the calibre of spells that Malfoy was likely to use, given the one that hit Osiris, it could have been much worse if Osiris had pulled out his wand to retaliate. With all the students in the corridor, the hospital wing would have filled up quickly.  
  
Osiris sat up and winced, putting hand tentatively over the wrap.  
  
"You should get back to your room now, Mr. Silver. I will excuse you from classes for the day, given the circumstances."  
  
Osiris raised an eyebrow, making his cat-like eyes seem to grow in intensity.  
  
"Yes, sir, but I think I will be fine for my classes. I'm feeling much better."  
  
Severus frowned. He still had not pinned down the boy's character. Reports from his previous school had said that he was an unpredictable rule-breaker with violent tendencies and that he was very difficult to control. However, Severus was not really seeing that. After being fairly seriously attacked, the boy was declining an invitation to miss classes for the day. The only indication the boy gave of behavior problems was that he was impulsive and had a temper that was difficult to control in the face of others instigating a fight.  
  
This time, however, Osiris had controlled it. The Professor was not sure if Osiris was responding to him, but it seemed like he was. It seemed as if all the boy really needed was some discipline and direction.  
  
"Professor Snape?"  
  
The Professor refocused on Osiris, coming out of his thoughts.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Silver?"  
  
Osiris looked at him strangely, wondering why the man had seemed to cloud over in thought. "May I go to my classes then, sir?"  
  
"If you feel able to, Mr. Silver, but you will not be pleased if you reopen that laceration and I have to close it yet again."  
  
"No, sir, I'll be careful. I've had worse."  
  
For some reason that the Professor did not understand that last statement bothered him greatly. He reminded himself that it was only druidic tradition and not ritual familial abuse that had shown Osiris worse. Druids kept rigidly to ancient arts and traditions, because of that they were still living many centuries in the past and felt that some lessons were best learnt with pain. It was also the reason that druids were able to do wandless magic and occlude and enter the otherworld through focus and meditation.  
  
In the end, the Professor knew it was well worth the pain to gain control of those gifts that were passed down within very old pureblooded families. It was an honor to be a druid.  
  
"Very well, Mr. Silver, but I think I will forego your detention tonight. I believe I will have a long talk with Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"Yes, sir...erm, thanks Professor, for fixing me up."  
  
The Professor's lips twitched before he nodded and stood up. He was fast beginning to realize that he was not used to anyone thanking him.  
  
  
  
Osiris returned to his room later that night after dinner, shaking his head with disdain. His Runes class had been a fiasco. The Professor had them each decode a series of Runes from an ancient tablet found near Exeter. They had handed them in as part of a project assignment and then the Professor had gone through what the runes actually meant.  
  
The only problem was that the Professor had the entire enscription translated wrong. He played back through the scene...  
  
Osiris raised his hand slowly.  
  
"Mr. Silver?" The man said, turning to look at him.  
  
"Professor, I'm not sure that I agree with your translation of the meaning of the last five symbols."  
  
"You do not?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"What do you think they mean then, Mr. Silver."  
  
"Well, sir, the first symbol means essense, not soul, the second means body, not human, the third means river as you have, the forth means fires, not Hell, and the last means Underworld, not Heaven."  
  
The Professor looked at him disdainfully, "And what, Mr. Silver, do you translate that series of symbols put together as meaning."  
  
"Quite simply, sir, the entire translation, not just those last five, would mean upon leaving this world the essense of a person separates but will rejoin the body after travelling down the Nile where the person must navigate through the fires before reaching the Underworld."  
  
"What a ridiculous notion, Mr. Silver. These are not hieroglyphs nor are they Egyptian, so quite simply that is counterintuitive."  
  
Osiris glared at him, "Why is it so counterintuitive, Professor? Firstly, ancients did not believe in Heaven and Hell so why would, what we can assume to be, early druidic writing to speak of Heaven and Hell? Secondly, simply because the writings are different does not mean that the content is any different. Thirdly, the concept of an Underworld or Otherworld or what have you has been passed down to other cultures from the Egyptians. Most wizards still espouse it in the form of alter-dimensions."  
  
"Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Silver, for your cheek and talking out of turn. Until you are a Professor, kindly keep your opinions, because they are opinions, to yourself."  
  
Osiris muttered, "That translation was not an opinion, it was straight out of the Book of the Dead, and there is a direct line from Egyptians to Druids."  
  
"Mr. Silver, you're dismissed. Come back to class ready to learn and not to argue."  
  
Osiris had nearly yelled to the man 'Half those rune symbols are engraved on my NECK! I think I should know what they mean.' He did not say that however.  
  
Now laying on his bed in his room seething, Osiris hoped that Professors did not get comprehensive lists of point deductions, who they were taken from, and for what.  
  
Thoughtfully, he rubbed the back of his neck, "He with power to bring redemption and life to those who travel the fires to the Underworld," he said aloud, reciting the meaning of the runes on him.  
  
He smiled slightly when he remembered when he had heard them read out for the first time and heard them translated. At the ending of his Rite of Passage when he was undergoing the Rebirthing Ceremony, his neck had burned black like all Druids did at that time. Then the symbols appeared on his neck as a reflection of his inner meaning, his essence, and his path.  
  
It marked the end of a year of painful discovery and the beginning of his true life.  
  
The runes were meaningful to him and he knew that there must be some special hidden meaning within them that he would grow to understand. The runes went along with his name 'Osiris'...the Egyptian God of the Underworld. 


	5. Questions, Accusations, and Curiousities

Chapter 5  
  
Questions, Accusations, and Curiousities  
  
  
  
Osiris growled as his still damp hair trailed across his shoulders and into his face as he was trying to read his Potions text. With an aggravated huff, he pulled the long, thick, blue-black hair behind his back and began braiding it into a plait to keep it from annoying him and getting in the way.  
  
He reread the same section of text for the third time and then decided that for something seemingly elementary he was not getting it at all. As he pulled his watch out of his pocket, he wondered if it was an acceptable thing to see if the Professor was in his office so that he could ask him to explain it. At his old school the Professors were required to keep office hours so that they would be readily available to students at specific times for questions and tutoring.  
  
Osiris decided that it would be worth a try, because he was not about to be caught in his class the next day not understanding material that could well end up on a surprise exam, which he had been informed the Professor was wont to do.  
  
With a bit of reserve, he rapped on the man's office door lightly.  
  
When it opened abruptly and the Professor's scowling face came into view, Osiris bit his lip and stepped back, wondering if perhaps this was not such a wise idea.  
  
Instead of the harsh remark about bothering or interrupting him that Osiris had been expecting based on the Professor's expression, Snape turned and walked back into the office. Hesitantly, Osiris stepped in.  
  
"Professor, I was wondering if you could explain something to me that is in our assigned reading, but if there's another time..."  
  
The Professor sat back down behind his desk and pushed a stack of papers to the side.  
  
"No, Mr. Silver, I was actually just reading something that perhaps you could explain for me?"  
  
It was said in such a calculating way that Osiris knew something was coming, and it was not something that he was going to like.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"You see, I've just noticed that you lost 10 points yesterday in your NEWT Runes class for insubordination and you were then asked to leave class?"  
  
Osiris shifted, "Well, sir, I disagreed with a translation and he got very acccusatory about my translation being opinion and that I shouldn't think that I know better than he does...That's what it comes down to anyways. But it was druidic rune, sir, and half of the symbols are in my tattoo, so I am fairly sure that I was right."  
  
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, "So why were you asked to leave class then, Mr. Silver, if it was just a disagreement?"  
  
"I muttered that it wasn't opinion and that it was straight out of the Book of the Dead under my breath, sir, and he heard me."  
  
"Do you remember what the runes were?"  
  
Osiris nodded, "Yes."  
  
Pushing a piece of parchment and a quill forward, the Professor said, "Write them down for me and tell me what you and the Professor each translated them as meaning."  
  
Biting his upper lip, Osiris walked forward to the Professor's desk and took up the proffered quill...What if he was wrong?  
  
He drew out the symbols and pushed the piece of paper back over to the Professor.  
  
The man stared at them in silence for a few minutes before he looked up at Osiris once again.  
  
"What did you translate each of the symbols as meaning?"  
  
Osiris pointed to the first few, "These we agreed on. The first symbol means world, as in living world, and this mark added to it here means leaving from. The next symbol means essense, and he said soul. That additional mark means leaving from again. The third means body, not human, the forth means river and he agreed, the fifth means fires, not Hell, and the last means Underworld, not Heaven. As an entirety it means that when leaving this world the essense of a person leaves his body but will rejoin it after travelling down the Nile to navigate through the fires to the Underworld."  
  
"And what did the Professor say it was?" Snape asked, frowning deeply again.  
  
"Something about the soul leaving the body and either being cast into Heaven or Hell or something like that. I don't remember for sure."  
  
Snape pursed his lips, "Does that dolt not know that ancients did not believe in Heaven and Hell. For Merlin's sake, most wizards now don't believe in Heaven and Hell."  
  
"That's what I said, sir. But he said that they were not hieroglyphs and thus could not make reference to Egyptian oriented beliefs such as the journey down the Nile or the eventual return to bodily life in the Underworld."  
  
The Professor put up a hand and Osiris stopped talking.  
  
"Have a seat, Mr. Silver, now you had some question about the reading?"  
  
Osiris frowned slightly in confusion at the sudden end to the prior conversation.  
  
He put it behind him and said, "I'm not sure I understand why you would want to change the temperature so many times when preparing this potion, sir."  
  
Quirking an eyebrow, Snape said, "What does temperature normally important for, Mr. Silver," surprise that Osiris had not already figured it out.  
  
"Well, consistency of the potion, which is sometimes related to potency."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Erm, some ingredients need to reach a certain temperature to disperse within the potion..." He added, not sure what the Professor was looking for.  
  
"You have not seen where I am leading you yet, Mr. Silver?"  
  
"No, sir," he answered, his eyebrows coming together in a deep frown.  
  
"Why do ingredients need to reach a certain temperature to disperse?"  
  
One corner of his lip going upward in a search, he answered, "Because temperature is related to their melting point."  
  
"And what happens when the temperature in increased past the melting point?"  
  
"They turn into gas, Professor. So is that why you decrease the temperature at the end of the potion, because the temperature at which it becomes gas is not as high as other potions?"  
  
"Not, entirely... How many of the ingredients are liquids? Why is the temperature not consistently low for the potion?"  
  
Osiris frowned as he searched his memory.  
  
"I don't know, sir," he said finally, sounding more than a little exasperated. The Professor was clearly not going to give him the answer easily.  
  
"Yes, Osiris, you do know," he said, scowling. "You should not have come here thinking that you could put in no effort and that I would simply give you the answer, because I will not. I am not to be used as a book, Mr. Silver. I will not simply display my knowledge or make it easier for you."  
  
Osiris bit back the grumbling that he was about to do and simply stared at the man.  
  
"Now, sit there and think about it, instead of believing that you cannot figure it out, and tell me when you come to some coherent conclusion. Otherwise don't waste my time with this circumlocution."  
  
With that, Professor Snape pulled the stack from the side of his desk back to the middle and settled all of his attention onto them once again.  
  
Osiris sat there unmoving; one part of him wanting to just get up and leave, whether or not he had permission, another part wanting to growl loudly, and another wanting to know the answer so that he would not seem like a waste of time.  
  
Slowly, he rubbed his temples and sighed. What had made him come here in the first place? He closed his eyes and started to think about making the potion and why the temperature would matter so much. His clues were that Snape asked him how many of the ingredients were liquids...and about melting points...  
  
Professor Snape's stack was considerably smaller when Osiris finally cleared his throat and said, "Is it because the temperature needs to be high, at least briefly, towards the beginning of the potion when you are adding the non-liquid ingredients? In order to melt them? And then it has to be lower later because the temperature must be below all of the liquid ingredients' separate melting points in order not to evaporate one of them off or change the ratio?"  
  
Without looking up, he answered, "Forty-five minutes later, Mr. Silver...hardly an accomplishment. At your level, you should know this." He looked up for a moment and met the boy's eyes, a kind of yellow-caramel color at the moment, driving the point home. Then he cocked his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow thoughtfully, "Although I am certain that none of your dunderheaded cohorts would even wonder about the temperature change when they read the chapter. That is if they read the chapter at all."  
  
Osiris didn't blink as the man stared at him. Was that a very masked compliment? It seemed as if it was, but Osiris didn't want to get hopeful. He needed to bide his time carefully before he even asked the man to consider apprenticing him. If he was impatient, he might just get a very resounding 'No!', which was very likely anyway.  
  
  
  
Osiris sat alone at the middle of the Slytherin table during breakfast, picking at his scramble and reviewing his DADA notes. Professor Lupin, who had quite a friendly and odd teaching method, was giving an exam today. Osiris had heard the other Slytherins say that the man was a werewolf and that he had been sacked a few years before when the school governors found out. With Lupin, Osiris was not worried about the exam. Even though the other students praised him and said that he was the best they had ever hand, Osiris had to disagree. The man was nice enough, to be sure, but many of the students would need more than light magic to protect themselves. Even the defensive measures they learned for Dark magicks was not very impressive, compared to what they could be learning from someone more versed in Dark magic.  
  
When the staff door to the head table opened with a loud creak, Osiris lifted his gaze. He was just in time to see Professor Snape stroll in with a decided smirk upon his face, levitating two large, dictionary sized books in front of himself. With a loud "BANG!" they feel down on the table in front of the Runes Professor.  
  
The man turned around to glare at Snape, which not many very often did, even Professors. "What is the meaning of this?"  
  
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow disdainfully, "Perhaps you should read up on ancient beliefs and druidic rune before you presume to tell others that their knowledge is mere opinion. Or simply do not pretend to teach in an area you are not sufficiently versed in. I, myself, would never be bested by a student. What an utter embarassment."  
  
"Exactly what are you talking about Severus? I don't need to read up on ancient beliefs-."  
  
Snape retorted, cutting him off, "If you think that Ancients believed in Heaven and Hell, had runes for the concept, and presumed to write about them, yes you do."  
  
Dumbledore's interest had been gained, and he looked down the table where the Runes Professor was now getting up to face Severus.  
  
"Stick to Potions, Severus."  
  
"Actually, Ancients did not believe in Heaven and Hell," Dumbledore said, calmly. "Why the sudden interest, however, Severus?"  
  
Professor Snape turned to face Dumbledore, "One of my students was blatantly disregarded in his NEWT class the other day. Then he was punished for it after disagreeing with the worst translation of druidic rune I am sure Hogwarts has ever heard. I mean, honestly Albus, Heaven and Hell, I say."  
  
The headmaster turned to face the other professor, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"The insolent brat was insubordinate, Severus, it had nothing to do with his opinion that the translation was off."  
  
"And it would not have happened if you had leant any credence to what he had to say. You would have if it was Granger," he spat. Then he added, "And off is not the word. You will find an early druidic funeral pyre ceremony in which the rune sequence you used in class is translated – a variation of something out of the Book of the Dead, which I am sure you are familiar with."  
  
The Professor growled, he was being made into an idiot in front of all the other professors, all because of one Slytherin that Professor Snape seemed to favor strangely.  
  
Snape raised a taunting eyebrow before turning to exit. However, he stopped after taking a step, and said over his shoulder, "I do hope that ten points will be restored to Slytherin today."  
  
  
  
Hermione peered over her book at her roommate Lavender as they laid in bed. Her soft brown eyes confused, she said, "I can tutor you, you do realize?"  
  
Lavender turned her blue eyes from Parvati to Hermione and said, "Hermione, dear, neither of us is a lesbian."  
  
Frowning deeply, "What does that have to do with how poorly you are doing in Potions and your need of a tutor?"  
  
Giggling slightly, she answered, "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but there is another person in a few of our classes that may even be smarter than you...Surely, you've noticed. Don't pretend you haven't."  
  
Hermione huffed and closed her book. "Professor McGonagall said that he was from a very elitist private school, Lavender, so perhaps he's very academic. Coupled with being intelligent, of course he would be doing well in our classes. Even our NEWT classes are probably not on the same level. By the way, I don't feel threatened by him at all, if that's what you are driving at. Anyway, you still haven't answered my previous question?"  
  
Parvati rolled her dark brown eyes, "Hermione, he's hot and she wants to snog him. Since he's a Slytherin, the only way THAT is going to happen is if she gets closer to him. It's not as easy as if he were a Ravenclaw!"  
  
"And I am doing poorly in Potions. Professor Snape has been even more of an evil git than normal in his grading," Lavender added.  
  
Hermione opened her book again, "I just don't understand the two of you. This is a school, in case you've forgotten."  
  
Lavender drew her head back in mock hurt, "Well I figure my grade might just go up in Potions if he tutors me at all, so that's a bonus. Plus, I perform much better when I am in a good mood, and this will put me in a good mood."  
  
She flipped her blonde hair behind her back and stared at Hermione, expecting a response.  
  
"Fine, Lavender, get Silver to tutor you then. You do realize that you'll have to ask Snape's permission first. I really don't think it's worth it, considering that I could tutor you and you could find a Ravenclaw boy."  
  
"Yeah, and hope to Merlin that Snape doesn't catch you," Parvati added.  
  
"Well, there is another reason why I am so curious about Osiris..."  
  
"Osiris? That's his first name? Who would name their child Osiris?" Parvati asked.  
  
Smiling slightly and her ignorance, Hermione said, "Because Osiris was a very powerful Egyptian God, the God of the Underworld; the keeper of those who have persished, who gives them redemption. His mother must have been academic as well, perhaps in the Runes field. He did cause that stir in class last week or the prior week."  
  
"Thank you, Hermione," Lavender said sarcastically, "While I did not need to know that, it certainly adds a degree of attraction to his name. A God, who would have known."  
  
"What was your other reason for being curious in him," Parvati asked, returning to Lavender's original statement.  
  
"Oh right! Do you remember when he said something about a tattoo, Hermione. I figured I just may be able to find out if he really is a Death Eater or not."  
  
Putting a hand to her forehead, Hermione retorted, "The Dark Mark is not the only tattoo a wizard can have, Lavender."  
  
"Yes, but it may be the only one that a wizard would not want another wizard to see. I mean, Snape knows, and he's either a Death Eater or sympathetic to them."  
  
Sighing, Hermione wanted to say that Snape was a spy for the order, but she knew that she could not. Instead she said, "Vampyres also frequently have a tattoo of the sign for infinity behind their left ear, even halfbloods. A wizard likely wouldn't want anyone to know he was a Vampyre either, Lavender. Druids have as well. They have Rune tattoos on their necks supposedly. The ministry has become suspicious of them with the ressurection of Voldemort, because they practise all forms of magic unequivocally, even Dark. They also tend to be very powerful, pureblooded wizards. Druids wouldn't likely want anyone to see their mark either."  
  
"I've heard they are quite secretive," Parvati added.  
  
Hermione turned and looked at her in shock. Lavender as well.  
  
"Anyway, I will be able to find out what he's hiding."  
  
"Do you really think that is a wise idea? He may not like the idea that you know, and he may not like you getting close to him either."  
  
Parvati nodded, "Well, that's true, he is a Slytherin."  
  
Rolling her eyes, Lavender said, "Yeah, but he's also male and attractive, so I'm sure others have seen it...Whatever it is."  
  
  
  
Author Notes  
  
Hey EVERYONE – I also have another series of Snapecentric HP fanfic if you would care to read it. If you like this, you'll proly like that too. It's my Sage series! Click on my pen name above to check it out. The first fic is Snape's Student Sage revised. ;-) Let me know what you think of that one too.  
  
Misty – You got the first review of this fic! Yay! Thanks for the help, especially with chappie 4, it would have been crap if not for you. ;-)  
  
MCMish – great to hear from you. Glad you are still with me. I figured you were still reading and that's all that matters. ;-)  
  
Elalien – Osiris is named after the Egyptian God, lol, but I think I've covered that since you reviewed. wink. Thanks for the words that made me blush heavily. I hope this fic will be stronger and faster than Sage can be. Sage has too many things that need to be developed slowly or else he would seem like superpower gary stu, lol. With Osiris I can move a bit quicker, so it should be a different sort of mentor fic, and I get to write Voldie!  
  
Emma – Updatin fast enough for yah??? I'm glad you're reading this. Are you the same emma that reads my Sage stuff as well? I am guessing yes, but there must be many emmas out there, lol. I hope you enjoy it.  
  
Tigerlily – WOW, thanks for the comments. I try to make things seem believable in the magic world even though I can obviously have no real life knowledge of it, because I do believe that it makes the story better and easier to read...not to mention more realistic. I take a little knowledge, and I do mean a little, from chemistry and a little from watching Venom ER on animal planet on TV, lol. Of course, some of it is completely made up. ;- )  
  
Fcuking Cathy – Thanks for leaving me a note to let me know that you enjoyed the chappie. I just like to know that people are reading!  
  
Elalien Ch 4 – Snape is what Osiris needs because at his old school he had nothing to really shoot for. Now he needs snape in order to get apprenticed so he has a damn good reason to try and keep his cool. Plus, Snape is obviously a disciplinarian, which is something Osiris needs as well, someone who won't screw around with him. And no, I won't leave Sage so please don't spam lol. I'll update that this week. This story had just been way too much in my mind to be true to Sage and what Sage deserves. I have to concentrate a lot more to write Sage.  
  
Masque of Red Death – you can leave a review on whatever chappie you want, lol, it's just great that you left one at all. Thanks for taking a chance on my story. I hope you are still enjoying it.  
  
ERMonkey – If you like the idea of druids in HP, you should check out my Sage series fics, because they have druids in them as well and a large druid sequence. In this fic, I have yet to decide if Dumbledore is a druid, because he doesn't need to be. I am glad that you like the druids so much. They are fun to add. And yes, potion-making, being an ancient art, tends to cluster around druids, although there are many other druid talents that one can have, or any combination of them. Osiris has inherited that. ;-) You'll have to wait to see the others, altho there is also mind skills, defense skills, and such that druids tend to have as well.  
  
TigerLily Ch 4 – I am glad that you like the druid idea as well, read my response to ERMonkey above to hear more about it.  
  
Lady Mariadoc – love your name, btw.Amazing! Wow! Thanks! I am glad that you did not think that Osiris was gary stu. You are actually the first person to ever mention that you thought a character might turn out to be...My other fics are with a Male OC too. I guess you could call it my specialty HP area in the Snapedom. I don'e think Harry will make an appearance in this story, Ron either. Hermione will be minimal and surrounding Lavender. I'm glad that you like Osiris' character so much, he's really a joy to write. My other OC is much more difficult to write, lol. THANKS for saying that I have Snape's characterisation down, because that is something that any author must struggle with then they try to add any degree of depth to him, because JK does not add any depth to him or has not yet.  
  
Lunacup – I am glad you like the concept of the Underworld and it being the afterlife. Osiris' tattoo has a lot of meaning and is very symbolic. That's all that I can say now. ;-)  
  
Linden – Hey GIRL! I talk to you all the time on MSN, so this'll be short. WOOT! Linden's the bomb! I',m not letting very much slip in this story because I have to make my plot bunnies very subtle or it'll be ruined. Sevvie does have a harsh demeanor, but even he is starting to notice that he Osiris doesn't bother him as much as the rest of the student population.  
  
Emma ch 4 – I will eventually explain the tattoo thing more, but if you carefully read what Osiris says when Snape is coming at him to see if he has a tattoo, you may get the idea. I also gave a bit more in this chappie. I hope that helps  
  
Misty ch3 – I have to agree that Sagey is the more moral character. Osiris is walking a fine edge. Reminds me of Linkin Park! Lol. I loved the movie underworld as well, but I was not thinking of that when I wrote this, lol. There is a lot of meaning in Osiris' tattoo and it is very symbolic, so you'll have to wait untill the end of the fic to understand it, lol.  
  
Misty ch 4 – Malfoy got more than just a lecture, but we won't go into that. Thanks for the help with this chappie, you helped make this. Woot!  
  
Interested Reader – Hee hee, I pride myself on my grammar and knowledge of sentence structure, lol. I am being serious too. I like creative structures and I like to begin my sentences with action words and not nouns. Keep the reader pulled in. ;-)  
  
Interested Reader ch 2 –4 – Nope, I am not a science expert, lol. I take some minimal knowledge from Chemistry and some from watching TV's Animal Planet Venom ER lol...and of course I BS some of it too, but I am glad that it is believable, because that's the trick. If its not believable it doesn't work. Thanks for saying I am smart too, blush, I suppose I am that as well. DOUBLE BLUSH...best story you;ve read so far! Thanks! If you leave me your email, I will send you a proper note or you can add me to your MSN of AOL (Sage Severus Snape hotmail . com without the spaces or SageSnape or JulieLovesRich for AOL)  
  
Lucius and Snape Rock – Osiris has to be a little suck upish because there is something that he really really wants from Snape and he learned right away what happens when he crosses Snape. He is especially polite in chappie one, which I think is what you wre respondind to. You would have to imagine yourself meeting a brilliant scientist if you are a chemistry majoy in college because that is how Osiris felt meeting Snape. Yupo, druids again, glad you like that idea! ;-)  
  
Interested reader ch 4 again – I will write more about the druids, see my response to emma above to read more about it.  
  
VD – Glad he's sexy. I almost think of him as being sexier than sage and definitely more sexual, lol. He is like a cross between Lucius and Snape with looks, lol. Never thought of that. He is a bit of a bad boy as well, even though he has to have more control over himself because he wants the apprenticeship so badly. He'll get a little more bad later, you'll see. I like the b ad ones too. Tattoos are sexy and Osiris has more than one, lol. Tho it has not been mentioned yet. Lol 


	6. Tutoring the Willing

Chapter 6  
  
Tutoring the Willing  
  
After sixth year NEWT Potions ended, Severus was surprised to find Miss Brown staring back at him from the front of the classroom when everyone else had already left. Her face was tight and determined, but her eyes reminded him of a frightened animal.  
  
"Yes, Miss Brown?" he asked impatiently, not bothering to look at her.  
  
She hesitated before saying, "Sir, er, I'm not pleased with how I'm doing in class..."  
  
His head snapped up, "I'll have no arguments about the grading nor the rigor of this course, Miss Brown. If that's all..."  
  
"I think I need a tutor, Professor," she spat out in such a way that the words ran together.  
  
"Hardly my concern," he answered, "but Miss Granger should suffice."  
  
She bit her soft, pink bottom lip and pushed her blonde hair behind her ear. "That's the thing, sir, er, Hermione's really busy with all the NEWT classes she chose to take."  
  
His glare stiffened, and he could feel an ulterior motive radiating from her.  
  
"What are you getting at, Miss Brown? Miss Granger is the only other Gryffindor in this class."  
  
"Couldn't you ask another student to help me, Professor? Mr. Silver, perhaps."  
  
Now he knew what she was playing at. Lavender Brown was much known in the staffroom for her giggly boy-talk in class – certainly not his own class but in others assuredly.  
  
"And why should a _Slytherin_ come to mind as a likely candidate, Miss Brown? Most of them would not hold a civil conversation with a Gryffindor, much less aide one."  
  
She suddenly felt cornered. Her hands tightened around the inner hem of her robes. "Sir, he's the best student in the class, and he seems to really enjoy it. Plus I never see him with the other Slytherin or at Quidditch. He must study a lot."  
  
The Professor scoffed. If she only knew why the boy was never at Quidditch...He sighed. She was doing poorly and would not last for seventh year without help. Even if she paid minimal attention to Osiris, she's be sure to pass at the least.  
  
"I will ask him if he would consider it, Miss Brown, although I will not force him to do it."  
  
She brightened and smiled softly. It was obviously hard for her to hide her pleasure. "Thank you, Professor."  
  
He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture and refused to look up at her any longer. Instead he skimmed over the essay on the top of his stack.  
  
He scowled darkly. Hermione Granger's intellectual affliction was incredibly irksome to him. Why she found it necessary to flaunt her knowledge obnoxiously was far beyond his comprehension. Afterall, he did not want to spend his own mental energies thinking about the Gryffindor Know-It-All.  
  
  
  
As he sliced fresh bat wings for the Potion Professor Snape was currently brewing, Osiris couldn't help but stare at the man's concentrated face. He wanted very much to learn from the man, but that dream was not coming to fruition any time soon. It was becoming much harder for him to control his impulses with such delayed gratification.  
  
He'd already had to resist throttling Malfoy three times in that week, because the blonde was trying very diligently to bait him by whatever means possible. Mostly by making remarks about bloodlines and impurities to his friends which he knew Osiris could overhear.  
  
Unfortunately, Osiris would have to keep some measure of control in order to have any chance of gaining an apprenticeship from the stoical Potion's Master. Equally as unfortunate, his month of detention was ending that evening and he'd no longer be able to try and make impressions other than in class.  
  
He sighed loudly.  
  
"Tired already, Mr. Silver?" The Professor asked, a hint of venom lacing his voice.  
  
Osiris frowned, "No, I'm fine."  
  
Rubbing his index finger and thumb together, the Professor added mica powder to the potion. "Cannot wait for the night to end? Afterall, you will be much liberated after tonight."  
  
Osiris cocked his head to the side, "No, sir, actually it doesn't much matter."  
  
The Professor raised an eyebrow steadily. "Care to explain?"  
  
"I'm still on restriction anyway, Professor, so it will be more hours I can spend rereading countlessly reread-already notes."  
  
"I see," the man answered, adding granules of fungus to the cauldron.  
  
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, the Professor asked, "You do not find your classes difficult?"  
  
Osiris shrugged, "Not necessarily, sir, I just find that I have no opportunity for distraction, so I have no choice other than to read or stare blankly at the wall. The latter being not _at all_ enjoyable."  
  
The Professor eyed him suspiciously, sensing that there was more to be said.  
  
Picking up on it, Osiris continued, "Charms and Defense are very easy for me, sir. Runes is difficult only because I am targeted...Thank you, sir, by the way, for what you did a few weeks ago. He's let up a little bit, I think."  
  
"I would do so for any one of my students, Mr. Silver. If I do not side with the Slytherins, no one else will. You did not mention transfiguration or Herbology or your other elective?" He asked, reguiding the conversation. If anything could be said for the boy, he was well-mannered, and it was not something that Severus was very used to. At least when it was genuine and not something given out of fear.  
  
"Transfiguration is difficult, sir; the practical is quite easy but the theory does not naturally make sense to me. As for Herbology, I like plants much better when I am drying them or putting them into a cauldron. I don't much care for growing them although the class if very easy, but also very tedious. Arithmancy is moderate, I suppose."  
  
The Professor raised an eyebrow slightly as he looked down into his cauldron to check the consistency, "And Potions?"  
  
Osiris nearly cut off his finger. He was not prepared for the Professor to ask his assessment of the class that he taught. "You know I am doing quite well," he said, trying to avoid the rest of the subject.  
  
Snape snorted, "Being evasive, Mr. Silver, very Slytherin of you, but I did ask you the question for a purpose."  
  
Osiris swallowed, "It is a very difficult class. You are very demanding, sir. If it were not my area of interest, and I didn't have any ability, I would find it to surely be my most difficult class."  
  
"But it is not?"  
  
"No, sir, but that does not mean that I do not spend the overwhelming majority of my time on it."  
  
This seemed to quiet Professor Snape's curiousity, as he went back to concentrating on the potion he was making.  
  
Osiris took a deep breath before blurting out, "Professor, could I still help you with this even after tonight?"  
  
Osiris nearly cupped his mouth, in shock that he had let that question escape.  
  
"Not that it is my job to entertain you and keep you from staring at your blank wall, Mr. Silver, but you really find preparing my ingredients to be that enjoyable," he asked, the sarcasm not hidden from his voice at all.  
  
"Yes, sir, better than doing nothing. I get restless very easily."  
  
The Professor raised an eyebrow. He certainly understood restlessness very well. His character could also be described as restless.  
  
"You're lying about the enjoyment, Mr. Silver, but perhaps you have your own motives... I would be an idiot to refuse you, but I do have a condition." He paused and waited to see if the boy would complain. He showed no signs of it. "I would like for you to tutor the insufferably simpering Miss Brown in Potions. She came requesting a tutor today and asked about you, saying that you are clearly the best student in the class."  
  
"Who is she, Professor, not that it matters," he added.  
  
"The blonde Gryffindor with the large, watery, blue eyes." He shuddered at the thought of her face and her giggles.  
  
The first thought that flew through Osiris' mind was 'She's hot!' but he knew he had to contain the excitement that was rising up within him at the thought of getting closer, by any measure, to the girl.  
  
  
  
Although Osiris was a bit disappointed to be tutoring the girl in the Potions classroom, right under the nose of Professor Snape, he was anticipating it greatly. His last girlfriend had unceremoniously broken up with him when she found out that he would no longer be attending his old school, and thus be unable to "take care of her needs."  
  
He snorted at the thought. She just couldn't last a month without it, let alone all those months between holidays. As much as he could remember, he hadn't so much as spoken to a girl in months, and Professor Snape's imposed restriction was not helping matters any.  
  
When Lavender walked into the open room, Osiris stood up to greet her. Growing up with only a mother had left him with very good manners toward the opposite sex.  
  
"Hullo," she intoned in her softest voice, extending her hand out to him.  
  
He pressed it gently, "Miss Brown, correct?"  
  
She smiled and shook her head slightly, "Lavender."  
  
"All right then, Osiris," he said, gesturing to himself.  
  
They seated themselves at a workbench, where he had a book opened already.  
  
She scooted her chair closer to his, seemingly so that she could see the book as well, but really as an excuse to be closer to him.  
  
"It's really great of you to help me out with Potions, you're really brilliant you know."  
  
Half-smiling, he turned his head to her, allowing his greenish-brown eyes to meet her blue ones. "My mother worked in Potions all her life, so I owe much of it to her."  
  
"She must be very proud of you then."  
  
Osiris cleared his throat lightly, "I sure she would have been."  
  
Her brow furrowed just enough to crease, she said, "I'm not sure I understand."  
  
"She passed away this last spring...Why don't we get started here. I think Professor Snape is eying us."  
  
"Oh yeah, sure. I'm sorry by the way," she said softly.  
  
He nodded before continuing, "I figured that we would go through some common ingredients to restoratives, which is the topic we're on now, and then you can let me know some other things you'd like to work on for next time."  
  
"Sure," she said, leaning over the book and closer to him at the same time.  
  
He took a long deep breath without her noticing. She smelled like honey and peppermint, suggesting her favorite tea combination, and peppermint was also a common ingredient in some rather racey potions as it is known as an aphrodisiac. She was so close to him that he could feel her warmth and her breathing as well. It was distracting to say the least. Afterall, he was male.  
  
"Why do we not use immature mandrake root? I've never understood that," she inquired.  
  
He cleared his throat and leaned back a little bit to clear his head of her sweet smell. "It's rather volatile and goes through so many changes, biologically, that it's effects are hard to anticipate. Use of immature Mandragora is past NEWT level. It is generally something learned in an apprenticeship."  
  
"Hmm," she said, clearly showing that if it wasn't on NEWT she wasn't that interested.  
  
"However, Professor Snape may ask something about the theory behind it's use on an exam, because he is very interested in making sure that we know our ingredients."  
  
"Oh, well then, what sorts of things?" she asked, clearly interested in knowing exam material.  
  
Osiris frowned a bit in thought, "Things like the life stages of Mandragora and it attributes and appearances at each. What you might expect if you used a root which was too young in a restorative...like how it would impact the potions effects."  
  
"I suppose that means a trip to the library," she said, sighing so deeply that it made her chest heave dramatically.  
  
He found his eyes directly glued to the spot before he tore them away, kicking himself the whole while.  
  
"Yes, the library, or you might consider purchasing a book solely on the properties of ingredients. There may even be a condensed NEWT book on the topic, if you don't want a huge tome like mine," he said, gesturing the large book they were looking at.  
  
Another hour past slowly by for Lavender as she took some notes and listened to Osiris explain things that shse had never even attempted to understand. Professor Snape was still presiding over them like a gargoyle grading essays – stoney and not moving except for his quill hand.  
  
She sighed deeply and put her hand to her cheek. It did not look as if she was going to get any opportunities out of this tutoring business, because Snape didn't look to be going anywhere.  
  
When she sighed, Osiris got another large whiff of her smell. He was growing ever fonder of peppermint and was noticing that the effects of the plant were not only after ingestion, because the smell was driving him into severe frustration.  
  
Here was this goddess of a girl, with a perfect body, complete with kind eyes and soft, supple lips, and he was sitting next to her tutoring her in Potions under the eyes of Professor Snape. How absolutely wonderful and horrible in the same breath. She kept looking at him in a way that he knew, a way that clearly conveyed her interest in him, even if the constant closeness did not.  
  
He had to keep constantly swallowing and clearing his throat, and to him he was acting obviously ridiculous. He shouldn't be displaying his discomfort so readily. However, she seemed oblivious to any effect she was having on him whatsoever. In fact, she seemed discouraged or perhaps impatient.  
  
Then, in almost slow motion to both teenagers, Professor Snape got up and strode out of the room, saying that he would be in a meeting for a short while after glaring at them icily.  
  
As soon as the door closed, Lavender turned to look at him. They were so close together looking over the book, that Osiris' heartbeat speed up at the movement. When he turned and meet her blue eyes they were only inches from his. They clearly reflected her anticipation and desire. He knew that she was waiting for him to kiss her, with her eyes imploring his the entire time.  
  
His heartbeat was racing now, how could he be so lucky? Confidently he leaned forward, brushing the side of his nose against hers, and kissed her slowly, waiting to see what sort of response she would have.  
  
She moved into him readily, putting a hand on his shoulder, and parting her lips to his much awaited entry.  
  
His cool calmness shocked her. It was unlike any kiss she had ever had before. He was soft and passionate all rolled into one. He kissed her deeply and longingly without being rough, which was what she was used to. She felt her body relax, her muscles had been so tense, and she seemed to melt in closer to him.  
  
She was leaning so far into him, that she had one leg on either side of one of his.  
  
His body was so close to hers as he cupped her face in his hands, that his elbows were brushing against her breasts, trapped between their bodies.  
  
Minutes passed by before he pulled back reluctantly and said, "No matter how much I would like to, I think that continuing this any further right now would be tempting fate a bit too much."  
  
Her cheeks were flushed red and her lips swollen. "You're proly right," she answered, sighing in the process.  
  
He stood up and leaned over the table, his hands flat on the top. He needed to get away from the closeness of her or he would be sorely tempted to do something that could only lead to disaster when the Professor came back.  
  
"All right, Osiris?" she asked, looking up at him.  
  
"Yes, definitely," he responded, brushing long, loose black hair out of his face.  
  
Smiling mischieviously, she said, "You're a wonderful kisser."  
  
"Thanks, you are as well," he answered, very glad for the fact that robes hid just about everything, or she might find _evidence_ for how good of a kisser she really was.  
  
Within fifteen minutes, she had left, leaving him with promises of future time together.  
  
He was still sitting wondering how he would manage to get around his restriction without Snape finding out about it. Osiris was finding that it was about time to test his ability to be stealthy.  
  
A/N  
  
Fcuking Cathy – Yes, Osiris is being careful about the tattoo, but if you remember, after Malfoy cursed him he said something about a tattoo and not going to see Madame Pomfrey. He had to say something in that instance or the mediwitch would surely see it. He hadn't anticipated anyone overhearing it really. ;-) I don't know if that's what you were asking about.  
  
Elalien – Not sure what you mean about Hermie figuring out the tattoo being a hint to later on. smiles evilly Lavender will eventually be in a position to see it and also in a position to see that he does not have the Dark Mark. That's all I', saying.  
  
Lady Meriadoc – hee hee. I think loads of people are feeling a bit like Lavender. ;-) I deal with Harry and Ron in my other fic and I didn't want to in this fic. I really don't like what JK has done with Harry ( I know, Blasphemy, lol). I can't wait ti hear what you think of Sage tho. He's loads of fun. I'm glad you like the snape interactions because that is what this fic is really all about.  
  
Oihane – If you want to see fanart of my characters you'll have to ask Misty for some, lol, she draws them but I haven't seen them yet. Thanks for saying that I have a knack for creating sexy characters. ;-) I try to make them appealing without writing chappies on their bare chests and bulging arms, lol. Was Osiris sexy in this chappie?  
  
Nebula Zirconia – I view Snape as a very adversarial character and I think he has enough of a relationship with the headmaster that he doesn't feel too ceremonious with him. I also tend to write him as being rather aggressive too, so I suppose that's just me. We know that he can be aggressive because he grabs Harry in OotP. If you are interested in wrangling in Harry and Ron, you should read my other series as they are both in that one. To make this fic much different, I decided to just stay with Severus and Osiris and add in some feminine interest. There is a plot reason for all of that too, but you'll have to wait for that. The stuff about druids I've kinda pulled from some things I've read in the past but a lot of it comes out of my head, lol. I am glad that you like Osiris so much and how I am gradually divulging things about him. There's a lot to divulge ;-). We've only scratched the surface. Sorry for rambling – but I suppose that's what A/Ns are for.  
  
Dave – Great to hear from you again. I also believe that Snape would stand up for his students because he remembers too well what it was like to be overlooked and hated, especially for being a Slyth. I imagine him remembering the werewolf incident and how he was almost killed and the headmaster didn't seem to care too much. ;-) I think Osiris is interpreting somewhat about the Nile, but he does have reason to believe that the ritual the druids were talking about was the one that they picked up from Egyptians (being somewhat of common ancestry, with the Egyptians leading to druids... more on that later). Unfortunately, tho, I don't think these two stories will ever intersect, lol.  
  
Misty – Don't worry, Osiris still holds a special place for you. Apparently, people are jealous of lavender, lol. I think Osiris is viewed as hotter than Sagey, lol. I'm talking to you, so I'll cut this short so I can post, lol.  
  
Interested reader – wow, two of you with the same name... weird. Anyhoo, I don't care if you are anonymous, or if you suggest stuff or not. It's just kewl that you drop me a note and let me know you like it!  
  
Dreams of Magic – Yeah, Osiris is a little off the main stream of looks, but so is Malfoy in a way. His hair is long for a reason as well...to help hide the tattoo...many druids have long hair for that reason, as Snape does as well. Hazel coloured eyes also frequently change colour, so that's not too odd, altho his are oddly coloured. His eyes are catlike, being that their unnatural color is much like a cats would be, but he does not have strange pupils or anything like that. His eyes are otherwise normal, except for the colour. Does that seem a bit more normal?  
  
Linden – Everyone's in sixth year for this fic, Osiris is just a year older that they would be because it took a year out of school for his Rite of Passage. ;-) The appenticeship should be intersting, should he get one... ;-) Lavender took advantage of the tutoring huh? Altho osiris did as well!  
  
Emma20 – Kewl that you are reading this story as well!Yes, it was the druids who hit Osiris and the tone of the fic is going to stay this way. The druids will be the same, just like yous aid, like a different culture. I like writing Snape this way too!  
  
Diaphanous – I was going to make this an Osiris/HG but I got votes against it, lol, altho you never know. Things may not work out between Osiris and Lavender. It may just be a hormones and lust type of thing ;-). Glad you like the fic. How was the ending?  
  
LuciusandSnapeRock – Yupo, lucius and snape mixed is a hot image. Lol ;-)  
  
Ramona-Eline – Thanks for reading! Those were wonderful reviews. ;-) It was sad that Osiris couldn't' fighgt back, but don't worry, I think Malfoy will get what's coming to him eventually. ;-) What did you think about Lavender's closeness?  
  
Melokerty – We will eventually hear from the younger brother. Not for a chappie or two, but he will be mentioned and we will eventually meet him quite a few chappies down the road. To satisfy curiousity, his name is Heru'ur "Horus" which is another Egyptian god. He was the avenger of Osiris in myth, and is commonly represented as a falcon. ;-)  
  
Thanks all! Please leave me a note and let me know what you thought. 


	7. Gratefully Busted

Chapter 7  
  
Gratefully Busted  
  
After a week of debating with himself, Osiris decided that it was time to test the waters just a little bit. It was very late that cold, October night, and he was having a hard time sleeping. He might want an apprenticeship very badly, but even if he did do everything Professor Snape wanted, he was still not giving himself better than a fifty-fifty chance of getting it. A short walk would tire him out a little bit and it would also help him know what to expect should he ever venture out to meet Lavender.  
  
Perhaps the most difficult part of sneaking out of the dormitory was getting out the door. Even with a disillusionment, he still had to open the door and he would still make noise if he wasn't extraordinarily careful.  
  
When he stepped out into the corridor, it was black as night, but his eyes adjusted quickly. He smiled as he looked down to see his body blend perfectly. His ears carefully attuned to hear any noise, he started walking down the corridor. Each step boosted his confidence.  
  
He mounted the steps out of the dungeons and made it all the way to the top. In the future, he was certain he'd have to go much further than this to get anything accomplished or to meet Lavender. However, for now, this was enough to tell him that he could do it. There was no reason for him to try and make it all the way to Gryffindor if he was not meeting her, even if he was having problems sleeping.  
  
His mind caught up in thoughts of how to avoid getting caught going all the way across at least twelve floors of castle, he descended the stairs again. It was two in the morning, and it wasn't likely that any prefects were strolling around in the dungeons.  
  
Walking down the middle of the corridor, he suddenly stopped when a light came on in front of him.  
  
As Professor Snape was exiting his office for the night, he heard the sound of light footsteps approaching him. Quickly, he stopped and turned around staring out into the darkness for any sign of a person.  
  
Severus Snape was not stupid enough to think that just because he couldn't see someone there, that it meant that there was not someone there. He whipped out his wand and lit the hallway.  
  
The footsteps stopped immediately.  
  
Osiris froze right where he stood, in the middle of the corridor. He was not gutsy enough to try and get to the wall without making noise if the person had already heard him. He already had the sinking feeling that the only person that would be out in the corridor would be Professor Snape, and he was hoping that the man wouldn't see anything and he would walk away. Of course, if that did happen, he would have to wait awhile before trying to get back into the common room just in case the man thought to wait there.  
  
"Accio cloak," Snape bellowed.  
  
Osiris took a deep breath and held it. The man wasn't going to just walk away. He knew better than to try and run.  
  
Raising his wand again, the Professor said, "Revelatio!"  
  
Osiris closed his eyes and he felt the counter to the disillusionment charm hit him square in the chest. Then he let the breath he had been holding out, in a very large, loud sigh and opened his eyes again.  
  
The Professor lowered his wand and Osiris thought for a brief moment that he caught surprise on the man's stoical expression.  
  
"Mr. Silver," the man stated flatly.  
  
"Sir," he said, knowing that he sounded utterly stupid. He looked down at his white, Addidas tennis shoes, now able to see them and his clothes quite well.  
  
"I hate to catch my own students breaking rules, Mr. Silver. What exactly do you think you are doing?"  
  
Osiris looked up and shook his head lightly, "I just couldn't sleep, sir, I wasn't doing anything really, honest."  
  
Osiris now figured that this entire thing was not worth it, at all.  
  
"My office," the Professor said, gesturing Osiris to the room.  
  
His hands sweaty, Osiris entered the room and stared at the Professor.  
  
"Sit."  
  
The Professor held the bridge of his nose in aggitation while he stood in front of his desk directly over the boy.  
  
"You could not sleep, Mr. Silver? And do you realize that would be about the worst lie you could tell me? Am I to believe that you, being that your family owns an Apothecary, do not have _any_ sleeping potions?"  
  
"No, sir, I have plenty. I just cannot use them nightly," he whispered.  
  
The Professor's eyes suddenly looked quite fierce as he was unable to control the utter frustration he was feeling. A small part of him understood what not being able to sleep and not being able to take anything for it felt like, and the larger part of him didn't care at all what the excuse was.  
  
"Almost two months, Mr. Silver, without a step out of line. Was it worth it to ruin it?" He said, looking down on Osiris was his canon black eyes.  
  
"No, Professor." Osiris pursed his lips and slouched down further in the chair.  
  
"I should think not! Not only are you out after curfew, but you are on Restriction and shouldn't be out anyway. How am I to deal with this?" He yelled.  
  
Osiris swallowed, his saliva suddenly tasting very acidic. "I don't know, sir."  
  
"Would you like to be on Restriction for the entire year, Mr. Silver, because that is certainly where you are heading!"  
  
At this, Osiris' mouth dropped open in horror, "Please, sir." He could not imagine being forced to stay in the dormitory with absolutely no human interaction for his entire sixth year, especially now that he had some reason to want to be out.  
  
"I'll take that as a no. My dilema, Mr. Silver, is that I am the person responsible for keeping you from falling into old patterns while you are here at Hogwarts. I thought that we had reached some measure of an understanding. I thought that you knew that I would not be as lenient as perhaps your other school was."  
  
Osiris shook his head lightly, feeling his world crumble around him as his chances at an apprenticeship crumbled. He put his head in his hands, with his elbows on his knees, and his fingers wove into his hair. 'An understanding'. If there had been one, there was not one now, and he felt as if he had missed his opportunity.  
  
"Do you have nothing to say?"  
  
Not looking up, Osiris shook his head.  
  
Severus couldn't help but wonder why his reaction to being caught was so poor when Severus had not even given him a punishment yet. Then a brief thought drifted back to him that he had been pondering for quite awhile.  
  
"What are your motives, Mr. Silver, why did you ask if you could still prepare my ingredients when your Potions grade certainly needs no help? Do you value my opinion of you so much that it means more to you than however I can choose to punish you?"  
  
Suddenly Osiris looked up and the Professor knew that he had hit a nerve.  
  
Osiris' heartbeat sped up so fast that he felt a huge pressure on his chest and was having difficulty breathing.  
  
"Answer me," he said in his most deadly voice.  
  
He felt very foolish, but he knew he couldn't lie. He was shit for occluding when he was like this, and he already felt the Professor on the outskirts of his thoughts.  
  
Licking his very dry lips, he said, "I, er, I was hoping that perhaps sometime you would, would consider apprenticing me, Professor."  
  
As shock reverberated throughout the Professor's body, he paced back and forth in front of the desk once.  
  
"You said your mother owns an Apothecary, why would it be so important for me to consider apprenticing you. Why could she not? Or is she practicing unlicensed?" He asked snidely, leaning his back against the desk.  
  
Osiris shook his head, his eyes looking large and vulnerable, "No, sir, I said that she owned an Apothecary and she did, but she died in a research accident last Spring. It's just," he sputtered, "It's just the only thing left I have of my parents, sir, and the only thing I'd really ever care to do with my life. And if you don't, no, no one else will with my record."  
  
For the first time in as long as he could remember, the Professor stared without malicious intent, but simply stared because he had no other idea of what to do or say.  
  
Finally, he said, "How did she die?"

Research accidents were few and far between.  
  
Looking at the wall, Osiris said as flatly as he could, "She was working on the same problem that you are, but she thought that she was very close to an antidote. It worked on rats and small animals and even on her for a very low dose." He stopped and took a deep breath.  
  
The Professor frowned deeply.  
  
After a moment, Osiris continued, "I was home for Easter Holiday, and she had wanted me to be there while she went through the last test: taking a full dose of the poison and then the antidote. Just, just in case something...happened."  
  
"And it did?" The Professor supplied, waiting for Osiris to continue.  
  
The boy nodded, looking somewhere near the man's chest, "It didn't work, not at all, and she started having the tremors from the neurotoxin. She told me some things to try, but they didn't work. So, I, I had to try some other things when her sweating became bloody from necrotic tissue. I, I tried an autoimmune booster, but it only helped minimally to fight off the poison. I tried loads of things...they only slowed it down a little...and she...she..." He stopped trying to say anything and looked away too busy trying to fight off tears to continue.  
  
A sudden queasiness had come over the Professor. That would be a most horrid death. He could not begin to imagine how traumatic it would be to watch and not be able to do anything, let alone to be the one poisoned. Then suddenly it clicked in his mind and he knew why Osiris couldn't sleep at night.  
  
"She asked you to end it," he said, finishing Osiris' abandoned sentence.  
  
"Yes, sir," he said, quietly, "I didn't want to, but she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down next to her. And she, she told me that if I wanted to be in this field that I was going to have to make difficult and consequential decisions that would not be easy...that if I didn't do this for her, it would take her hours to die."  
  
It was Severus' turn to take in a deep breath. "So you did it?"  
  
After a few stale seconds, Osiris nodded and he finally blinked. A tear traced its way down his cheek and fell onto his khaki pants.  
  
"It-it took me three tries to do it. I, I just couldn't make myself want to- want to do it," he said, speaking of the necessary desire it would take to use an Avada Kedavra on someone. "It, it was horrible...and my brother..."  
  
Having completely forgotten why they were in his office in the first place, Severus reached down awkwardly and touched his shoulder, "You did the right thing."  
  
"I know, sir, it, it just doesn't take away the memories. Maybe I could have done something differently..."  
  
Scowling, he said, "No, Osiris, and she would not have expected you to. She wanted you to be there for a reason, you obviously knew her research very well, and if anyone could have done something in the event of an emergency, she trusted you could do that. And you did."  
  
They remained there in silence for minute after minute. Osiris played with the cuffs on his dark green shirt. The Professor stared at him unblinkingly, finally beginning to feel like he understood Osiris and why he was the way he was.  
  
"This is why you wanted me to apprentice you...You know I have never taken an apprentice and for good reason..."  
  
Osiris looked up, suddenly reminded of the purpose of this conversation.  
  
"Give me chance, Professor Snape, please. I'll do _anything_ you want me to do...I'll prepare all your ingredients...I'll be your personal house elf...it's just all I've got left..."  
  
The man scowled, as much as part of him wanted to do this, another part reminded him of his associations and his obligations. It could be dangerous to let this boy too close to him. He growled, but he could simply not see refusing the opportunity for himself as well. All he could see in his refusal would be the boy desperately looking elsewhere for it and that _elsewhere_ was somewhere he was very familiar with. Enough of his Slytherins would end up there as it was.  
  
"You realize, Mr. Silver, that this would be signing away seven years of your life to me, and you know very little about me."  
  
"Yes, sir, I know that, and it's well worth the sacrifice to me."  
  
Severus' lips tightened, "I do not see how you could commit yourself to something like this now, while still in school."  
  
"I'll work really hard, sir, I hardly sleep as it is. I'll stay over holidays."  
  
"What about the brother you spoke of?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"He won't be home for the holidays, sir, he is undergoing his Rite of Passage."  
  
As the Professor crossed his arms, he said, "Who has guardianship of the two of you? You said your father was killed a long time ago."  
  
Osiris raised an eyebrow wondering why the man was asking him the question. "I'm seventeen, sir, I have legal guardianship of my brother. You did not think that I wanted you to apprentice me so that you would be responsible for us?"  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes, "The thought did cross my mind."  
  
"My brother's almost fifteen, Professor, and capable of handling himself, especially with our house elves to do all the cooking and stuff. He doesn't need me around all the time. If you decided to take me on, sir, you'd just be getting me."  
  
The man nodded and looked down his nose seriously, "You would have to drop an elective, and I would not tolerate any lapses in your marks for your other classes. More importantly, Osiris, I work in the same dangerous area that your mother worked in, and I must know that you will respect and obey me."  
  
"I will, sir, I promise, and I can drop Arithmancy," he said, his voice hopeful and the words coming out of his mouth very fast.  
  
Scowling the Professor said, "Are you certain, Mr. Silver? An apprenticeship in Potions is no easy task and rarely ever pleasant. There are guidelines to be followed. Whatever you do will be permanently attached to my name and that has consequences you don't even know about that I cannot tell you about. I am very serious about this if it is to happen. I must be assured that you can leave a good deal of childish foolishness behind you."  
  
"I meant it when I said that I would do what you ask of me, whatever you ask. I know that it won't be easy, sir, and I know it will take substantial amounts of your time as well. I won't waste it."  
  
Crossing his arms once again, Severus replied, "If I agree to this, Osiris, you will be bonded to me for seven years and there is no quitting. I will, in effect, have legal guardianship over you."  
  
"The sacrifices don't matter, Professor."  
  
The Professor did not respond. He appeared to be thinking deeply, with a slight frown on his sallow face.  
  
Osiris was hopeful. He could barely believe that it seemed as if the man was going to say yes. Biting the inside of his mouth in anticipation, he took a deep breath through his nose.  
  
Finally, the man spoke, "If the headmaster does not object, Mr. Silver, I will agree to sponsor you to the directors. If you pass their scrutiny, I will apprentice you. They will certainly have a thing or two to say about your colourful history, but hopefully they will find you acceptable."  
  
Osiris smiled softly, as much as he ever smiled. Everything felt surreal. "Thank you, Professor Snape, I won't disappoint you."  
  
"No, you won't, or you will sorely regret it. Now, there is still the matter of your breaking the rules being out after curfew."  
  
"Yes, sir," he responded, stately. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he was not going to be in trouble for that.  
  
"Follow me," the man said, leaving his office.  
  
Professor Snape waved his wand in the corridor and a bucket and a brush appeared on the floor, "I do believe the floor of my classroom could use a good scrubbing, Mr. Silver, without magic. I trust you will not have any difficulties falling asleep tomorrow night."  
  
Osiris looked down at the bucket and picked both it and the brush off the floor without a word.  
  
"I will see you in class tomorrow morning," The Potions Master said before raising an eyebrow with an evil smirk to match.  
  
"Goodnight, sir." Osiris said, as the Professor turned on his heel and began striding off into the darkness.  
  
"Goodnight, Mr. Silver."  
  
Turning in the dark corridor toward the classroom, Osiris thought it would be well worth it to scrub floors everynight just for the fact that Professor Snape would give him a chance.  
  
A/N  
  
Well this was a big chappie for me and it's loaded with plot bunnies, so I hoped you paid good attention, lol. Let me know what you think of everything. I think it is quite safe to say, especially since I am writing this lol, that Severus sees a lot of his past self in Osiris.  
  
I'll post responses to all your reviews in the next chappie, but this is a general response to the choice of Lavender. Osiris is not romantically interested in her, it's more of a male, sexual attraction thing. Think lust not love. He would much prefer a smarter girl for a real relationship. You will see much more as this develops, but from what you've heard of Lavender she feels the same way, attracted. ;-) There will be more of the two of them soon too, altho that is really a subplot kind of thing going on. Not too important. For those of you who are reading Sage...Osiris is not as much of a good boy as Sage is. Not that Sage don't have problems, lol. ;-)  
  
Read it? Like it? Review it!


	8. Archaic Practices

Archaic Practices

Osiris stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes, rather orange-brown, stared back at him with as much uncertainty as he felt. His stomach churned over and over again as he pulled the midnight blue robes over his shoulders properly, trying to look as presentable and professional as wizardly possible.

When he met Professor Snape in the corridor, the man raised an eyebrow and gave him a barely perceptible nod.

Slowly but surely, Osiris was beginning to pick up on many of Professor Snape's subtleties and this was one of them.

"I hope to get this over with as quickly and painless as possible, Mr. Silver, so do remember yourself. The directors will be scrutinizing your character deeply, so do your best to appear obsequious and do not talk out of turn."

"I know, sir," he replied, nervously, "I cannot afford any mistakes."

The Professor threw a dark look at him, "Neither can I. I will look quite foolish if I show up with a prospective apprentice, when I have never taken one before, and he fails to even be accepted."

"I won't fail you Professor... I might have a few black marks on my record, but I have loads more to make up for them."

Snape sneered at him, "Intelligence is not enough in this case, Osiris. You must possess the necessary character to spend seven years of your life in intense study underneath a Master and that requires a great deal more patience and impulse control than your record portrays. Whether or not I agree with what your records state about your character, that will play heavily in their minds, and hopefully I can convince them otherwise."

Gulping, Osiris disapparated with a loud pop and the Professor followed behind.

He followed Professor Snape nervously into the massive burgundy coloured room as the usher led them in the first ten steps. There was a small table and a chair in front of the directors' dais. Twelve impressive men sat there with abyssmally blank looks on their faces, all wearing the dark burgundy robes.

Swallowing the large knot appearing in his throat, Osiris willed himself forward, trying not to convey too much unease. He was hoping that it came off as submissiveness or quietness. However, it was nerves that was making him feel nauseated, and the fact that he would be standing there on display was not making him feel any better.

The Professor flicked his right eyebrow up briefly as he sat down in the chair at Osiris' left. It was almost as if he were reminding him to calm down.

At the center of the large table in front of him, the prominent man in the middle spoke to the Professor in a clear, strong voice.

"I must admit, I am quite shocked to see you here, Severus Snape," the director said, in a more scathing manner than Osiris would have liked, "As you have never saw fit to take on an apprentice...but you are welcome, none-the-less."

Professor Snape didn't rise to the baiting as he might have at Hogwarts, afterall his behavior could only help or hurt Osiris' chances. Instead, he said, "Thank you, Mr. Director."

The man nodded curtly, "Well now, down to business. We have reviewed the file, and I must say we are unimpressed, despite his aptitude. You well know that this would be a problem, Severus, why would you choose to bring this boy here?"

Osiris nearly gasped, but instead his eyes grew very large.

"I do believe that this is a hearing, not a judgement," the Professor replied forcefully, "Obviously I feel the boy has some merit or I would not have bothered bringing him here. As you said, I have never taken an apprentice, nor had I seen myself ever doing so before Mr. Silver."

The glare collectively coming from the board members was harsh, but not as harsh as one of Snape's death glares.

Finally the director retorted, "And how long have you known the boy?"

"Long enough to see his potential," the Professor threw back with a haughty look. He was obviously getting aggravated.

"Some two months? I hardly think that long enough to decide whether someone has the ability and patience to serve a seven year apprenticeship, nor long enough to decide whether or not he would make a contribution to the field."

"Some two months is long enough when you spend at least four hours a day with someone, everyday," Severus growled.

Osiris closed his eyes and then opened them slowly, this was not going as well as he had hoped, and they hadn't even talked to him yet.

"And what did you learn about him, Severus? I believe knowing that he was kicked out of school is enough."

"He's a menace," one of the wizards on the far left exclaimed.

At this the Professor stood up and slammed his hand against the table.

"He's a seventeen year old boy! Menace though he may have been, he has not been since he came to Hogwarts, and he will not be."

The director smirked, much in manner to Lucius Malfoy, and said, "That is wholly unconvincing. What is so different about Hogwarts that his demeanor has changed so much?"

Leaning over the table, a snarl firmly planted on his face, he glared back at the man. He, Severus Snape, was not going to look like a fool for trying to apprentice Osiris.

"There was a professor at Hogwarts intelligent enough to stop the problem at its roots and make sure that other students were not baiting him because he doesn't know who his parents are!"

This statement caused the group to collectively raise an eyebrow before they looked around at each other. Osiris could hear whispering, but he could not make out what they were saying. His mouth was tasting even more acidic now as he grew doubtful that this meeting was going to benefit him. Surely if the directors would not assent, Professor Snape would be very angry, not just with them, but with him also. Despite the fact that Osiris did not know the Professor well, and doubted that anybody did, he knew that the man did not like looking like a fool.

Finally, the man in the center spoke again, "Headmaster Dumbledore agree with you then, that this boy would do well apprenticed to you?"

His face full of smug satisfaction, Severus answered, "The Headmaster believes the boy to show exceptional talent and promise, and that he would do well in a disciplined environment. Mr. Silver was recommended to him and to Hogwarts to this specific end, although the Headmaster would never admit to that."

The director turned to look at Osiris.  
  
PAGE BREAK

As Osiris followed the Professor out of the building, he could not help but feel as if the entire hour and a half proceeding had only lasted ten minutes. Once the director had turned to him, the panel had begun asking Osiris all manner of questions about his goals, his disposition, and finally about potions themselves. Throughout the entire thing, Osiris was only slightly unnerved, which probably made him seem a bit more reserved and respectful.

Finally, it all came down to the director recognizing his face. After his mother passed away, the Potion Association Governing Board had to attest to the aurors that the poisoning was the result of a research accident and that the use of an Unforgiveable was excuseable in that instance as it had saved his mother a lot of pain. The director simply recognized his face from that short encounter over six months prior.

The simple fact that he had the presence of mind to give his own mother a quick end, was enough for them to accept him. They had said it in a rather scathing manner...that the Professor would do well to have him as an apprentice in case the self-same thing happened to him and someone needed to make that decision...at least Osiris was practiced...or something like that.

When Osiris finally managed to catch up to the Professor, the man was breathing heavily. Even though Osiris had been accepted, it had been done in such a way that it saved face for the board.

After a quick apparation, he followed the Professor wordlessly to the dungeons. They had yet to exchange a word.

As the Professor approached the door to his room, he said finally, "We will need to make arrangements to be accessible to each other at all times. Part of the laws governing an apprenticeship is that you must reside with the person you are studying under. Thankfully, you are in the room which shares a wall with my quarters already. We shall only have to make a door. However, I will only say to you once, do not abuse this. You will not rifle through my things freely, and I expect you to abide by my rules."

"Yes, sir," he answered, following the man through the door.

"I do not expect you to invade my space or my privacy, Mr. Silver, but there will be times when you will need to make use of my books. I would prefer you not to take them from here, so you may use your room or this room," he said, indicating the space in front of the fireplace. There were books lining the walls and a leather couch and two leather chairs. "Do not bring them into the Slytherin Common Room as I would not want these books floating into the wrong hands. While I cannot fully explain this to you, Mr. Silver, it is imperative that you maintain a certain level of secrecy. It will be so for many things."

Osiris nodded, looking around at the hundreds of old books. "I don't go into the common room anyway, sir."

"You may also not discuss the intricacies of what we do or what we are working on. The content of your education in potions is no longer a concern of this school or of the headmaster, so I expect you to use your discretion. Many things I will teach you will delve much further into the Dark Arts and Olde Magicks than this school currently endorses."

Osiris nodded stately, wondering exactly what Snape was going to teach him that he did not want to be public knowledge.

Continuing on with his speech, "Firstly, you will have to build up a tolerance to certain poisons and poisonous ingredients. As you will be studying under me and my specialization is in that area, the Board will be testing you on basic skills and requirements for that specialization in two years. If you are to assist me with my research, and not simply my other duties, you will have to have tolerances to certain things first, or I will not let you help me."

"Of course, sir," Osiris said, frowning, "I have some mild to moderate tolerances already, although probably nothing of the calibre you are alluding to."

Raising a dark brow slowly, Severus answered, "Then you have a foundation to build upon and already know how to build up resistances, at least simple ones. We'll work from there and talk more about this later. For now, do you have anything you would like to clarify about the apprenticeship?"

Osiris pursed his peach lips slightly, wondering what was the most tactful way to ask his question. However, no simple way came to him before the man's canon eyes expressed severe impatience.

"Well, sir, now that I am officially apprenticed to you...as such, am I required to call you Master?"

The Professor stared at him in a way that Osiris though might have been slight surprise or perhaps something similar. It was certainly not a look that generally clouded over the man's harsh, stoical face.

"No, Mr. Silver, I will require you to do no such thing. I am neither the Dark Lord, nor do I espouse unnecessary, archaic practices symbolizing duty or respect. However, should you so desire to do so, I am not offended by it in any way. I just find it inappropriate to require it of someone, especially a student."

Osiris found it a little strange, given the Professor's very traditional values and demeanor, that the man felt so strongly about not requiring someone to call him 'Master'. Of all things, it did not really seem like that big of a deal; although, perhaps it would be a little uncomfortable to call him that in front of a class of students.

"All right, sir, I will not feel required or obligated then," Osiris said, thinking that he would further analyze the Professor's abnormal response later. There simply had to be more to it than the man thinking it was archaic, because the Professor was a traditional sort of man - not exactly the sort that would find the title of 'Master' to be archaic.

A/N

I am soo sorry this took so long... I was on vacation and then graduate school started up again! The stress. Anyhoo, I hope to hear from all of you again to hear that you are still reading and don't hate me or anything. ;-) Sage will be updated soon too. I promise, the more reviews I get the faster I will write. If I get a lot of reviews I will update again soon in a few days, dealio???

Thanks for your neverending support and kind words! I hope you are still out there. SORRY!


	9. Rancorum Maleus

Chapter 11

Rancorum Maleus

Osiris' experiences of his apprenticeship thus far had been rather simplistic. He had been doing further research for the professor, building up poison tolerances, and restocking some medical potions for the hospital wing, but not much anything more complex.

It was early on Thursday morning before class now, and Osiris was sitting by the fire reading old poison texts for possible ingredients to try when the Professor walked into the room frowning.

"Mr. Silver, something occurred to me last night which might help us narrow down anticoagulants and oxygenators."

Osiris put the book down and looked up, rubbing his eyes, "Really, sir, what?"

The Professor put down his cup, "Your mother researched this area and had a slightly viable antidote...Do you happen to still have her notes?"

Raising his eyebrows, gesturally telling the professor what a stupid question that was, he answered, "Of course, Professor, they are at home in her lab and study."

"Do you not see the wisdom in retrieving them, Mr. Silver?"

"Well, yes sir, I suppose they will help us narrow down ingredients since we can cross off the ones she already has tried."

Crossing his arms, "Disappointing, much more than that. If her antidote was clearly viable in small dosages perhaps we can decipher what went wrong and modify it."

Osiris frowned slightly, "Actually, I don't think it is salvagable, Professor Snape. I was rather intent on figuring out why it did not work and why my mother had to... The key ingredient grew on the shore of certain water, Kebulanian Root, and it unfortunately has a high mercury content."

The Professor sighed, "And mercury is fat soluble and thus absorbed by cellular tissues, mercury poisoning, acute mercury poisoning."

"Yes, sir, the antidote to a full dose of poison had too much liquid mercury. We could try separating it out or purifying it somehow, but I'm not sure that the mercury was not part of the success of the antidote."

Flicking his index finger on his lips, his brow pulled down, he finally said, "Yes, the effect of blocking the necrosis may have been accomplished by the mercury competing for absorption by the tissues."

Osiris nodded, his yellow-brown eyes concentrated, "Sir, this is only my conjecture and as such is liable to be wrong. Perhaps you should read the notes yourself and decide if I might be in error, or if I overlooked something. I'm sure the possibilities are infinite with regard to trying to fix that antidote."

Severus was beginning to understand Osiris very well, and he was beginning to see the subtleties in Osiris' tone and gestures. So he knew that there was something hiding beneath the surface. "But..." he said, inviting Osiris to be honest.

"Part of me cannot help but postulate that we will not know if the antidote works, if we alter it, unless one of the two of us takes it after changing it..."

"No desire to repeat the past, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris pursed his lips, he knew that last statement was a reproach. "I suppose not, sir."

The Professor was standing over him, staring down at him with those largely unreadable black eyes, "I will remind you, Mr. Silver, that this is the area you chose to work in and there is always a chance of unanticipated events happening, even death."

Looking up resolutely to meet the man's eyes, Osiris answered, "I am aware, sir, and I will do what I must do regardless. That does not mean that I did not learn anything from the experience. I will remain hesitant, skeptical, and cautious. Overconfidence or excitement can have dramatic consequences."

Severus raised an eyebrow at those strong words, wondering if Osiris' tone had crossed over the fine line of respect he had.

"You do not have any latitude with regards to being hesitant to my orders, Mr. Silver, as that could prove quite deadly as well. As the expert in this case, it is my position to just the risk-gain ratio, not yours. One, however, cannot err of the side of caution. You will not witness me have such flippant feelings such as overconfidence or excitement. You must push passed your reservations because of what happened, or you will make no advancement."

Nodding stately at the Professor's subtlety, he said, "I will, sir, and I will do as you ask. That was not what I was insinuating."

Narrowing his eyes at Osiris, Severus nodded in satisfaction. "You will get the notes, Mr. Silver. I should have thought of this before. It is imperative that we not cover ground that has already been covered."

Osiris nodded, "I will get them then."

The man pulled a watch out of his pocket, "You will go now."

Sputtering slightly, "Now, sir, but class starts-."

"I said now, Mr. Silver. If you make haste you should only miss a few minutes of class."

OoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOoooooOooooo

Professor Snape stood by his desk at the front of the classroom holding a corked phial of dark, purple liquid in his left hand. The class stared at him in rapt attention, so quietly that a needle could have been heard falling to the ground, but that was what the majority of his classes were like. You didn't dare make noise in Snape's class.

The Professor paced the front of the classroom slowly and purposefully, sending an evil smirk around the classroom as if he knew some evil secret which they did not.

"As we are starting on a vicarious area of potion-making today, of which you will only scratch the surface of virulency, I saw fit to bring a sample of the potion with me that you will be trying to counteract," he narrowed his eyes.

Hermione Granger took in a deep breath hoping that he was not thinking of making them test their antidotes themselves. He sounded in an evil enough manner to do it.

"Who knows that this is?" He asked quickly, turning to look from one end of the class to the other.

Nobody so much as moved. The Professor in the front of the class with a poison was not a combination anyone wanted to mess with, even the Slytherins.

"Nobody? I will give you dunderheads a subtle hint. I would not allow you near the ingredients needed to brew an antidote to a high potency poison."

"It's a class two poison, Professor," Draco Malfoy piped up.

Severus spun to face him, still holding the phial, "That was an admirable estimation, Mr. Malfoy. However, that knowledge alone would not be enough to save you if I so desired to poison you, now would it?"

"No, sir," he answered, sounding flustered and dejected at the same time.

"This is a class two poison, meaning that its antidote is widely distributed and its symptomology readily recognizable. That does not mean that it is not excruciatingly painful, but perhaps I should do a little demonstration."

An evil silence followed, one that Snape enjoyed immensely, because he could both see and smell their fear.

It was at that precise moment that the classroom door squeaked open and half the class jumped, or at least twitched.

Quietly and quickly, Osiris made his way into the room looking down and took the nearest seat.

"Mr. Silver," the Professor began, a strange low tone playing in his voice, "What an opportune time for you to join us."

Without saying anything in response, for he knew far better than that, he raised his eyebrow and met the man's dark stare.

"Come here, Mr. Silver."

Osiris stood up and walked to the front, his step only slightly slowed with a little apprehension.

Smirking, the Professor held out the phial to him as the class watched with baited breath.

Osiris took it and looked at it questioningly.

"What is that, Mr. Silver?"

Throwing one last questioning look at his Professor, Osiris turned his gaze back to the phial. He held it up the in the air at a slight angle and examined it colour in the light. He frowned, bringing his brows together and pulled his hand back down. He flicked the phial a series of times with his index finger and looked at it again, still frowning in concentration. The he swirled the phial around and repeated the process. Finally, he held the cork tightly with his middle finger and turned it upside down and then right side up, watching the liquid move back down the glass carefully. Looking back up, he handed the phial back to the Professor.

"It's Rancorum Maleus, sir, a class two poison."

The man raised a calculated eyebrow at him, and Osiris knew immediately that the man had not been entirely certain that he would get the answer right. Visually identifying potions was not simple and they had not talked about this poison.

"Five points to Slytherin."

Osiris moved to go sit down again, but Snape grabbed him by the shoulder, "I don't remember telling you to sit down. I'm not done with you yet."

"Yes, sir."

The Professor turned again on the class, "Who can explain the methods Mr. Silver used to identify this potion?"

Nobody seemed very eager to volunteer any information, but Hermione Granger's hand was up, as it almost always was.

"No competition Miss Granger," Snape said snarkily. "Go ahead."

Hermione took a breath before saying, "He checked the colour, the viscosity, and the composition."

"You are still missing a component, Miss Granger. Anyone in this class actually preparing for the NEWT?"

Again nobody answered him.

"Mr. Malfoy, what important thing did he not do?"

Draco looked stunned for being singled out for a moment before he realized that the answer was rather simple, at least to that question. "He did not uncork the potion, sir, or smell it."

"Another five points to Slytherin. Even being exposed to the fumes of some potions, especially poisons, can be deadly." He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Osiris, "Mr. Silver, what did they miss?"

Osiris hated being flaunted, very much hated it, but he knew better that to not give an answer in a timely fashion. It would earn him more than just a lecture later.

"I flicked the phial and checked for sedement. Which if there was sedementation, that would mean that at least one ingredient was not a liquid and also not completely soluble. Then I checked for the color of the sediment, which was deep burgundy. That information combined very simply told me what was in the phial."

Faint whispering broke out sporadically. Everyone knew that Osiris was very talented in Potions, but he never voluntarily gave information in class the way Hermione did. He was always quiet and reserved until the Professor called on him. A small glimpse at his real knowledge was fairly startling to them. Hermione, especially, looked very bent up. He was clearly far out of her league.

The Professor steepled his hands for a moment, the sinister look returning to his eyes as he looked over the classroom. Osiris stared at the man's back as he paced the space below his desk, in front of the students' workspace. Suddenly, Snape spun around in a whirl of black robes and faced him, a humourous glint in his eyes.

"Mr. Silver, just before you interrupted my class with your timely arrival, I was about to designate a volunteer to show the class what the effects of acute Rancorum poisoning were."

Osiris raised an eyebrow at the Professor. Severus raised an eyebrow fast and allowed it to fall equally as fast, one corner of his mouth playing upward.

Biting the inside of his lip, Osiris realized the Professor's game and decided it would be best to play along. The class would not know that he had to build up his tolerance anyway.

Suddenly, out of no where, Lavender cried, "You can't poison someone for being late to class, sir, even if you have the antidote."

The Professor turned around, "Do you see an antidote in my hands, Miss Brown? That's what you are to brew today. Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

"But, sir, this isn't exactly ethical behavior towards students," Miss Granger put in, well prepared to lose five points to keep someone from poisoning.

Mr. Malfoy looked positively excited.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss. Granger. Although it is none of your concern what I do in my class. Ethical behavior towards my students has absolutely nothing to do with this as Mr. Silver is not my student. He is my apprentice. He has been such for a few weeks now."

The Professor noticed Draco's mouth flop open for a brief moment before he caught himself in the indecorous behavior and shut it quickly. Now that he had returned silence to his classroom, he looked at Osiris again.

"Tell them what will happed to you if you take this poison."

Osiris swallowed, thinking _nothing pleasant_. "It is a neurotoxin and it will attack my nervous system. First knocking out my somatic nervous system such as fine muscle control and movement. Then it will paralyse certain organs within my body as it poisons my autonomic nervous system. By that point I'll probably go into anaphalactic shock as my parasympathetic division fails. Then I will lose my ability to breath or I will experience pulmonary edema to the point where I can't breath. Then I'll die."

"And how long does it take for this to occur?" The Professor asked demonically.

"Pain and loss of fine muscle control will occur fairly fast with a high dose, within an hour. The rest is gradual and painful, lasting 12-16 hours. It is class two because it's so slow acting. It is easy to treat because there is a long treatment window and the symptoms are very obvious."

The Professor held out the phial to him again, and he slowly took it, acutely feeling the coldness of the glass in his grasp.

It was a moderate dose, which would test the limits of his tolerance, but ultimately his body should be able to handle it no matter how utterly painful and debilitating it would be.

"We really don't need to see this," someone said under their breath.

Another voice answered, "I can't believe he is doing this. I can't believe Dumbledore would allow it."

The Professor ignored them for once and remained focused on Osiris, "Take it, Mr. Silver, all of it. I want them to see how serious this is."

Osiris looked up into his eyes, this dose was a little high, it was pushing his tolerance more than a little bit. Not that he was about to object, there was an antidote if he needed it, but he wasn't looking forward to experiencing the poison regardless. He especially did not like the idea that everyone was watching him and would see how much pain it caused him. He would have to fight it hard.

SLAM!

The Professor hand smacked his desk hard, "Detention! Mr. Silver, was I not clear? I said TAKE IT NOW. We don't have time to waste unless you fancy a trip to Saint Mungo's when there is not enough time for someone in this class to brew you a viable antidote."

Osiris flinched before popping the cork off with his thumb, counting to three, and downing it as if it were simply a shot of firewhiskey.

His temper still flaring, the Potion's Master conjured a chair next to Osiris and pushed him into it unceremoniously.

Some of Osiris' loose, long black hair fell into his face with the force of him going backward into the chair. He pushed it away and looked at the man in slight shock. The Professor very rarely acted like that, but he very likely did not appreciate the fact that it looked as if Osiris was questioning him in front of the entire class. That was his last thought before searing pain went down his esophogus and into his stomach. He cringed and put a hand to it.

"The rest of you had better hurry up and prepare you antidote to the specifications on the board. Mr. Silver is depending upon you to spare him quite a bit of pain, because if he has to go to Saint Mungos, none of you will be seeing him for a few days. Only one of you will receive top marks today, the one of you whose antidote Mr. Silver picks to take, if he picks any of them. If I were him I might take the extra pain and go to Saint Mungos, because it is likely that your antidotes will be as abyssmal as your normal work."

He turned his back on the class once more and turned to look at his apprentice, but not in concern at all. He purposefully ignore the fact that Osiris was holding his stomach, already beginning to sweat, and had dialated pupils.

Putting his long, slender hands on the arms of the chair Osiris was sitting in, he leaned closer so that he could whisper very harshly, "I will not stand for another episode like that, Mr. Silver. If I am to allow you to get close to me...If I am to allow you to work with me...If I am to allow you near a certain calibre of ingredient...For so many reasons you cannot even know...I need to know that you will follow my instructions immediately. When I say immediately, Osiris, I mean instantly, without hesitation, without deliberation, without conscious thought. Or you will risk death or injury to us both. Do you understand me?" He growled this last statement with a piercing look in his eyes.

His eyes a strange honey-yellow color, Osiris said, "yes sir," through slightly gritted teeth. He knew that the dose was very high for his current level of tolerance by the level of pain he was experiencing. It was perhaps worse than what he had ever felt when he was building up a poison tolerance.

Thirty minutes later the Professor looked at Osiris again, who was now very pale and pastey.

"Tremors yet, Mr. Silver," he asked as if that were an everyday question.

"Yes, sir," he answered as clearly as he could force out.

"Show them."

Slowly Osiris unclasped his robes and tried to unbutton the bottom of his shirt with shakey hands, but he finally abandoned that idea and simply pulled his shirt up out of his trousers to expose his stomach.

Several groans of disgust issued forth from the female members of the class as they literally saw what they would describe as the skin of his stomach crawling as if there were hundreds of tiny worms underneath his skin. Intuitively they knew that it was just his muscles firing out of his control, but it still looked incredibly gross.

One man member of the class whispered, "Wicked!" from the Slytherin side of the room.

Osiris threw him a very dirty look from his half slumped position on the chair in front of the class. The pain was undeniably worsening and he actually began to wonder if Snape had really depended upon a member of the class brewing the antidote to the poison he was afflicted with on their very first try.

A/N What will happen? Does Snape have an antidote or will Osiris have to take one from the class or will he not get one? Whose will he chose if he chooses? What do you think of Snape's demeanor and his methods? How do you think he feels toward Osiris? What will his detention be? In general, let me know your impressions of this chappie, it was a BIG one for the story.

THIS IS FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL FOLKS WHO REVIEWED MY LAST UPDATE

Linden, Misty, LuciusandSnapeRock, ibk, emma, oihane, Lady M, Aellyr, and anyone whose reviewed that I missed or that I've put this up before I got the email alert. ;-)

You are all the best and as I promised, here was you quick and VERY long update. ;-)


	10. Delirium

Author's Note: I just realized that I never told you how to say Osiris' name. So here's how it goes. Os-eye-rus or Os-eye-ris, then you slur it together all nice. ;-) For future references, his brother's formal name is Heru'ur (Egyptian), you said that Hair-oo-er, but everyone calls him Horus (Anglified) except Osiris who calls him Heru.

Chapter 12

Delirium

When the bell announced the end of class, Osiris was breathing deeply through his nose while every muscle in his body tensed and released repeatedly in a strange dance. The feeling was as sickening as it appeared to an onlooker.

He groaned deeply at the sound breaking through his head, knowing that not one person in the class had been efficient enough to brew the antidote before the end of class.

Professor Snape, however, did not seem bothered or surprised by it in the least.

"Since no one has finished, bottle a sample of your antidote and leave it on my desk," he said from his position behind his desk.

Osiris wiped his forehead and put his head back against the wood of the large chair he had been pushed into earlier in class. The pain was immeasureable and constant, pulsing through his body, leaving him so drained that he could no longer clench his fists but could only clench his teeth.

"Professor Snape, I'm almost finished and I have a free period after this, can I continue so that you can give Mr. Silver the antidote?" Hermione Granger said tentatively.

Osiris groaned lightly for her, because he knew what the answer to her question would be and he was not disappointed.

"Miss Granger, your potion was not completed in the alloted time, so no you may not finish it. Mr. Silver will survive, I assure you. Now get out of my classroom."

After hearing her take a deep breath, Osiris heard her continue, "Please, sir, he's not looking very well."

This disobedience prompted the Professor to stand up quickly, nearly toppling over his chair.

Hermione took a protective step backwards.

"Since you persist in this fruitless line of discussion Miss Granger, do you think me to be negligent?"

She looked like a fish for a brief moment before answered, "No, sir."

The Professor was now three feet in front of her, towering over his tense form, Osiris breathing heavily in the background.

"Then you should realize, Miss Granger, that I would not have ordered him to take that poison if I did not have the antidote here. However, if he had done as he was told, perhaps you would have had that extra time to finish, so he will have to suffer the consequences of his hesitation."

She squeeked, "Please, Professor Snape, he's really sick. If you have it why don't you give it to him?"

"You've earned yourself a detention, Miss Granger, now get out."

Osiris jumped when the door slammed behind her retreating form and then locked shut. His eyes were bloodshot and the color of green-yellow mucous when he looked up at the form of the towering Potion's Master standing over him.

The man's scowl was dark and firmly planted on his stoney face, his eyes piercing.

"I told you barely three hours ago, Mr. Silver, that you did not have any latitude whatsoever about following my orders. Is your brain that feeble that you forgot in such a short time?" He hissed.

Osiris swallowed, "No, sir." He took another deep breath. "I was not going to object, sir." He barely managed to rasp the end out.

"But you did object, your hesitation was your objection, Mr. Silver, actions are not meaningless. You questioned me with your inaction and your silence. I will not tolerate that from someone in your position. When I ask you to do something, you will do it or you will learn very quickly to do it when you suffer my displeasure."

Closing his eyes, Osiris looked to the side, his lips a peach-purple shade. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, wanting nothing more than to say what the Professor wanted to hear so that it could all be over.

His lip curling with distaste, the Professor said, "You disappointed me today, Mr. Silver. This was a test that you most blatantly failed, aside from identifying the poison, and now you will learn the consequences."

Opening his eyes slowly, Osiris said, "Please, Professor, the dose was too high. My tolerance won't-."

Leaning down into his face, he spat, "Don't whine, Mr. Silver, I know you are stronger than that. The dose was meant to be high for this specific reason. You will not forget this lesson. As for your tolerance of the poison, it matters very little, as you said yourself the treatment window for this particular poison is large. If your tolerance is too low to counteract its effects, I will have plenty of time to administer the antidote."

"I won't do it again, sir," he said, hoping to say something that would satisfy the man.

"When I said that you did not have the latitude to be hesitant because that could very well mean deathâ€ When I said that you needed to follow my instructions immediately or risk death or injury to us both, I was very serious, Mr. Silver. Perhaps you will understand exactly how serious I am now that your inability to follow my instructions immediately has resulted in injury to yourself. You are lucky this was a test."

Osiris knew that he should have known from the beginning that the man was not going to give him the antidote anytime soon, even if he prostrated himself on the floor and begged for it. Hearing it come out of the man's mouth was an entirely different story.

When you built up tolerance to poison, the purpose was to make sure it had no effects on you whatsoever, even at a high dosage. Accomplishing this was not a fast and easy process. Successive doses were to be taken, gradually getting larger. Each new dose should only have mild effects on you, if you were doing it properly and slowly. Osiris was undergoing moderate to severe effects and would likely suffer from the entire symptomology if Professor Snape allowed this to drag on. His body was not going to be able to counteract it.

The Potion's Master stared into Osiris' eyes and watched as they transitioned from entreating to forlorn. The boy had finally realized that he was going to have to suffer it out.

"You've already gotten through the first two hours, Mr. Silver, perhaps you will find that you are stronger than you think."

Osiris focused as if out of a daze and answered, "I hope so, sir," in a dejected, withdrawn voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Professor went back into his classroom, after moving Osiris out of it and to the couch in his quarters. The slight smirk on his face spoke to what further he had just done to Osiris. He replayed it in his mind

"By my estimation Mr. Silver, you have seven more hours before you'll need the antidote, but just in case I have overestimated I will leave this on the table here in front of you."

He placed a small flask down on the table next to the couch, which Osiris eyed with his eyebrow raised.

"If you begin to go into shock, take it in case I am not here. However, Mr. Silver, I am trusting that you will not take it before that point."

Coming out of the replay in his mind, he looked down at the notebook in front of him and thought, _If he takes that antidote, he'll be sorry. He'll not fail two of my tests in one day. We'll see if he's really learned anything or if he's still just thinking about himself._

Smirking softly, he opened the notebook and ran a hand over the first page to smooth it out. He began reading the neat, flowing, cursive.

"I've decided to start anew today with Essence of Keb and Kiefer's root, as they can be safely combined and should have some countereffects to the necrosis. However, I must remember to keep Horus out of the lab as he secured a rather nasty, bulbous chemical burn from the undiluted Essence – a mistake Osiris would never have made even at age ten."

His brow pulled down and his cheeks pressing upward, he stared at the writing for a few moments. _I must have exchanged notes or had a short correspondence with this woman about poisons. Her writing is slightly familiar. Althoughâ€most women have fancy cursive writing. _He continued reading.

"I've decided upon a one quarter ratio of Essence (diluted to a one to ten solution with water) to root, which seems to ensure that the root with dissolve but not burn and give off the most horrid stench."

Severus snorted. Only a woman would keep such a narrative research journal. His research journal looked nothing like this.

"Adding this solution to the Asildis Antidote for neurotoxin poisoning resulted in a stable potion, however, two drops from a ten milliliter micropipet given to a rat killed it within twenty seconds, so I will be forced to start all over again tomorrow."

He continued reading the journal for hours, until a noted stiffness in his chest pulled him away. After closing the book, he massaged his temples, sighing deeply. Being alone for so long had not lessened the pain, even though he did not consciously think of it often, his body remembered for him. His body had remembered while reading the journal of this woman and reading the asides she inserted about her two sons: Osiris and Horus.

It had been so many years, so many years that he could not remember what it was like to have direction and a future, and an absense of the Dark Lord and war. It had been more than ten years he was sure, but he was not sure if it had been fifteen years yet he so rarely dwelt upon it now.

He had been sitting in this very chair when it had happened, when a confusion and fear struck him that had not been equaled yet in his life following. As if being stuck by an altered form of killing curse, he felt half of himself rip away violently, sending him to the floor in agony. The confusion that followed was not knowing what that was or why it had happened, but within one breath, the fear had crashed down upon him. The bonding was gone, the connection was gone, the warmth was gone.

He remembered pulling himself up from the floor, sweat pouring down his face as he stared at the one test which would tell him for sure. He had not wanted to know.

Now, he stared at his naked finger, remembering how he had grabbed the ring hoping that it would not come off, but it had – as he knew that it would.

And when it came off, he was forever changed. His life was forever changed. That one occurance had thrown him into his current role, seeking revenge and redemption all at the same time. Not necessarily caring if he died doing so, because then he could be with her.

When that ring came off his finger, he knew that she was dead. He knew that the feeling he had experienced was the result of her life force being ripped away from him, from their wedding bonding dying. Once that was ripped away, he was left with less than he had originally, and felt more measureable lost and alone than he had when his father had abused him or even when his father had killed his mother.

He remembered the newspaper articles, he remembered the other professors, and he remembered their funerals. So many details of them were lost inside of his mind. He must have repressed them so violently that they were no longer accessible.

Officially, it had been an overwhelming explosion in the lab at his home, obliterating everything in the basement floor. Including his wife and his son. Unofficially, he had many theories about what had happened, but there was only one that he chose to stay with for his entire life. He had not wanted to bring his wife to serve Voldemort and the Dark Lord had killed his family as punishment.

The notes of this woman had reminded him, but his own wife had never been given the chance to finish her apprenticeship. She had only been twenty-two years old. He had only been twenty-three. His son had only been four.

He slammed his fist down on his desk, a growl more like an animal than a man escaping his lips.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Osiris' eyes darted to the door some four hours later when the Professor came back in looking drained and tired and aggitated. Osiris was having trouble moving now, sharp pains shooting through his muscle fibers, but the poison had yet to take its final step.

The Professor walked back into his room, almost having completely forgotten about Osiris. The first thing he looked for was the small flask on the table. Next, he turned to look at Osiris, whose face was sunked in and his hair stuck to the pastiness of his face.

He looked back to the flask on the table, still full of a dark teal colored liquid. He strode up to the table and picked it up, noting that Osiris was following him simply with his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris gave a small huff that sounded half like a cough and half like a scoff, "Like shit, sir."

"Unless you are delusional, which you are not, or really think that you are going to die and not have to deal with me anymoreâ€ I would refrain from the cheek and the melodrama."

Forcing himself to think more rationally, Osiris pushed out a "yes sir."

"So, you are feeling quite poorly?" The Professor asked, a snide tone present in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I'm feeling like I learned my lesson, sir," he answered, his voice waivering considerably.

"You did not take the antidote."

"No, sir."

The Professor wheeled around and walked away from him, carrying the precious antidote in his hands.

_I don't know how much longer of this I can take_, Osiris thought, on the verge of a breakdown.

A few moments later, the Professor came back holding two flasks. Without saying a word, he sat down on the table in front of the couch and held out the teal colored one to Osiris.

Holding his breath, Osiris began to reach for it before deciding that there was no way he could hold it.

"Could you do it, sir, I don't think I can hold it?"

Nodding, the Professor said, "You'll have to drink all of it."

He held it up to Osiris' purplish colored lips as he struggled to breath and drink it all without coughing it up.

"What's that, Professor?" Osiris asked of the second flask when he could manage.

"It will put you into a deep sleep for a few hours, but you will likely wake up and be violently ill."

Osiris dropped off into sleep within a few minutes, still very much looking dreadful.

The Professor levitated him off the couch and dropped him back down in his room, where he could rest in his own bed. After making sure a trash bin was by the side of the bed for when Osiris woke up, he went back into his rooms and poured himself a large glass of bourbon.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Osiris did not know how many hours he slept for but he was very certain he had been throwing up for at least an hour before passing out again. Now he was feeling slightly more coherent in his mind, but achey all over his body. It was as if every muscle in his body had been intensely overworked. The nausea was fading, but still there.

Slowly, he changed out of his school uniform and put on some more loosely fitting clothes.

When he emerged from his room wearing slate grey cargo pants and a black tee shirt, with his hair pulled back, he saw the Professor sitting on the couch.

Severus blinked a few times to focus himself when he heard a noise and then frowned at the form of Osiris standing there.

"What are you doing, Mr. Silver?" He said, his normally harsh and succint voice, sounding a little slurred but still very harsh.

Osiris frowned, "You gave me a detention today, sir."

A little slow himself, Osiris just noticed the half empty bottle on the table and the half empty glass in the Professor's hand. He had never seen him drink before.

"Tomorrow night, Mr. Silver, we'll take care of that tomorrow night," he answered, shocked that Osiris would remember something like that after what he had already gone through that day.

Osiris pursed his lips tightly before asking, "Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine, now leave, go back to sleep."

"Yes, sir," he answered before turning around and leaving the man to himself.

After he closed his door, Osiris licked his lips and sat down on his bed, wondering what was going on.

A/N

Last chappie I forgot to thank Golden Essence for her review too, so thanks

Dave – This fic is going to turn out to be quite a bit darker than Sagey's, so it does allow me to do some different things with Severus. But Osiris himself is also a bit more dark and dodgey than Sage. ;-). Thanks for saying that Sev's aside was well done. Sev is the type that gives enough info but doesn't explain things and has to be cryptic. Perhaps Osiris will eventually find out why. You are right about him testing Osiris to see whether or not he is trustworthy, but not necessarily about the spying stuff. Severus would not want to put anyone else in that position. ;-) But, because of what Severus is, he needs to know that Osiris will always do as he says, even if that decision might be couched in difficult circumstances.

Ibk – I hurried! Isn't this fast enough. 3 chappies in a week?

Lucius and Snape Rock – I'm glad you like it and there is some foreshadowing, but not that much, at least I don't thinkâ€ You may be reading into things too much, lol. There is some tho, but it's up to you to decide what and what it means. ;-)

Linden – I hope you gget some sleep and feel better! You were right about sev having the antidote but not necessarily handing it over right away, lol. Also, you were right about something else in your review but that doesn't come until later, ;-) If you remember, Osiris is seventeen, so he can legally apparate, which he does to get the ingredients. You were right about the apprenticeship making him a little different than a normal student. At some point in tie, and I won't give away the circumstances, dumbledore will tell him that he must take his NEWTs as he can no longer be considered a student.

Lady M – yupo, tremors are yucky. Watch Venom ER on TV and you'll know what I mean, and that's just mild. Fullblown is gross.

Oihane – Yup, snape did have one on him and Osiris will be fine.Thanks for saying that I write a wonderful snape. ;-)

Duj – You were right about Snape not doing that to a normal student but being able to do it with osiris because of Osiris being his apprentice. He'll do many other things that may be questionable throughout this, but you'll find that Severus is very good at detaching himself from feelings. You were also right about Hermione being a contender, sort of. It would have been hers if she had finished, but Snape still wouldn't have let Osiris take it right away.

Fcuking Cathy – Sorry about the cliffie, but it was quickly resolved

Emma- You were entirely right about how much snape was going to push and he even says so, kudos to you!

Interested reader – I will email you when I update! Glad youa re so captivated by the story. ;-)

Aellyr – I'm glad it was tense, because that's what I was aimming for. So I'm not predictable, huh?

Thanks to everyone else who read the last chappie and didn't review. ;-) Glad you keep reading.


	11. Hard Times

ATTENTION YOUNGER READERS, THIS CHAPTER SUGGESTS AT SEXUAL MATERIAL ALTHOUGH IT IS NOT DESCRIBED IN ANY WAY. PLEASE DO NOT READ IT IF YOU SHOULD NOT BE READING IT.

Chapter 10

Dark Times

After having an abominably bad few days, Osiris was well worn out and doubly confused. When he woke up for classes the morning after he was 'poisoned' by Professor Snape, he found the man quite unconscious with a suspect bottle and glass lying empty on the table. Potions class had been the worst yet and not just for him. Draco Malfoy, much to Osiris' pleasure, was sent from class for a grand attempt at distracting a Gryffindor girl from completing her potion, which resulted in his own boiling over. Two Hufflepuffs had their work unceremoniously vanished because it was "well beyond poor." And, of course, two minutes into the potion, Osiris himself had his book slammed shut accompanied by a long tirade about not having it memorized. Not that anyone else had to have it memorized… Not that he could have even attempted to memorize it given the state he had been in the previous night.

After having no free time and one all-nighter to study for a Transfiguration theoretical exam, Osiris was thankful that it was Friday and he had just finished his potion for class. He could escape Professor Snape for a few hours and cram for his recitation the next morning; afterall, he had been tortured and worked mercilessly by the man all week and Fridays were always days he had spare time.

He peered over at Lavender as he started putting away his materials. She was chewing on her bottom lip in a frustrated way. Perhaps he would see her this afternoon. Sensing his gaze on her she looked up and he mouthed 'meet me after class.' She nodded.

When he turned his eyes back forward and caught the agitated glare the Professor was aiming at him.

Pretending he did not see it, and acting as casually as he could, he cleared his throat and looked down with interest at his materials.

Timing himself carefully, he put the last item in his bag and zipped it closed just as the bell rang. He threw it over his shoulder, intent upon making a quick escape, and was thoroughly thwarted by a low, "Mr. Silver, stay after."

He rolled his eyes and mouthed an obscenity before turning back around looking as placid as possible. His discontent was conveyed by the way he dropped his bag to the floor with aggravation.

They looked at each other blankly as the rest of the class labeled their samples and filed out.

When the last person left, the Professor motioned for Osiris to come up to the desk with a very dangerous curl of his lip.

Osiris, being sleep deprived and overworked, was having a difficult time masking himself and crossed his arms in agitation after walking forward.

In a very low, lethal whisper, the Professor said, "Do you wish to have me take points from my own house for talking during class?"

As coolly as possible, Osiris replied, "No."

Cocking his head to the side, "No…"

"No," Osiris uncrossed his arms.

The man slammed his hands down flat on his desk, always a very bad sign.

"No, sir," Osiris answered again, closing his eyes for a second to collect. Then he added, "And I didn't _say_ anything, sir."

This earned him a dark scowl, "Do not be impertinent, Mr. Silver, with such meaningless specificity. You know very well that a distraction is a distraction. Simply because you are done does not give you free rein over my classroom. Don't do it again."

He bit his tongue and muttered a "yes, sir."

"I will require your assistance this evening with a Wolfsbane potion, as I have a meeting with headmaster, it will need to be attended to from 7 until 10."

"But you've set that oral recitation for tomorrow morning-."

"And surely you did not expect to learn that much material for an oral examination in one night, Mr. Silver, and have been studying it consistently for the last two weeks."

Osiris closed his mouth and set his jaw tightly, this was not boding well.

"I seem to remember someone begging me to give them a chance. Someone who said that they would do whatever it would take. Are you falling back on that so quickly, Osiris? Did you forget what my expectations and rules were? Your attitude recently suggests that you have."

Such a carefully masked statement, but Osiris knew it was a very clear threat. A reminder that the Professor had full license to make his life hell if he so desired.

_My attitude recently is due to lack of sleep and a snarky…_"No, sir, I'll be here."

A slightly raised eyebrow and a huffy scowl was his dismissal.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As Osiris rounded the corner, muttering under his breath, he was seized by the wrist. His first instinct was to retaliate, but then he realized quite quickly that the hold was soft and the hand rather small.

"The second lecture of the day?" Lavender asked, innocently, trying to hide her slight smile.

"Likely the second of five if this course keeps on."

"It's not that bad," she said gently, running a soothing hand up his arm.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure, and you don't spend hours a day with him."

"Wouldn't want to, but he seems to like you well enough."

"Like would not be the word that I would use. He's on me all the time, getting a bit annoying really. Honestly, I think he knew I wanted a free night, anticipated that I wanted to spend time with you and then decided that he'd rather thwart that than let me go on."

He leaned his back against the wall, his feet well in front of him, so that he was closer to eye level with her.

"Than we shall simply have to thwart him," she answered, poking him in the chest playfully.

"I can't not show, I'll get into loads of trouble and then I'll probably not be able to keep my calm."

"You cannot not show for Professor Snape tonight, but we can for Professor McGonagall."

"Skivving Transfiguration? You're serious? And what do I say when he finds out that I did that?" he asked, shaking his head, his mouth twisting.

"Come now! Weren't you some sort of troublemaker in your old school? You cannot come up with a good lie?"

Looking a bit furtive, he said in his straightest voice, "Professor, Peeves accosted me in the hallway, saying I sent the Bloody Baron out to get him…by the time I got rid of him and cleaned myself up, class was almost over."

She giggled, "That a good one. Or with that thing between you and Malfoy, you could always say that you got hit with a good curse and had to wait until someone stumbled upon you to do the countercurse."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lavender had picked a rather good spot by the Transfiguration classroom for them to consort in private. This way both of them would have been seen on their way to class. However, neither of them counted upon a late student catching a glimpse of them going into one of Filch's closets.

Osiris was so stressed out, he welcomed a good, quiet snog session, although quite honestly his hormones were asking for much more. That was why, against his better discretion, he did not say a word when Lavender began to acquaint herself with his more sensitive areas.

The sound of the doorknob was magnified tenfold to their ears by what they were doing. Lavender jumped up haphazardly, not being careful with him at all, Osiris squinted, bit his lip, and then pulled her in front of him.

Three sets of eyes stared at each other, each set as shocked as the other. That was in the few moments before Professor McGonagall went into a furious tirade, Scottish accent blaring with anger, thick and heavy. It was quite clear that although she had not seen anything explicit, she had seen enough to know what had been transpiring. She yanked Lavender away from him, not that he fought having his shield taken away. He was thankful that robes were very easy that way.

"Never in my years…skiving class to…indecency…ought to be properly ashamed…"

Those were the only words Osiris caught the woman was talking so fast. It was all so surreal that both him and Lavender were in McGonagall's office before he even realized it.

Lavender was crying hysterically on a chair, obviously mortified at being caught in the act. Osiris found himself leaning against the wall, his hand blocking his eyes from the Scottish woman's eyes, thinking that he should comfort Lavender but not really feeling like he could.

In another minutes worth of his thoughts, Professor McGonagall flooed Professor Snape and that really snapped him to his senses.

"Professor, really-." He began to protest, but she cut him off.

"You be quiet! You've done quite enough."

_She is really blowing this out of proportion_. "We were just kissing Professor, really, we must have lost track of time. We didn't mean to miss class."

McGonagall sent him a glare that immediately shut him up. He was not going to be able to smooth this one over.

Lavender wailed.

Osiris muttered, "Oh Merlin."

A loud, angry knock on the door sent a fresh wave of tears through Lavender. Osiris discretely pinched his nose, muttering again.

He could not imagine a worse scenario, but he had a feeling that at that very moment in time, there was no possible worse scenario.

"Minerva, what is the meaning of this, I have a class to teach."

McGonagall opened the door fully and said, "This concerns one of _your_ students taking advantage of one of mine."

Before thinking better of it, Osiris burst out, "That a lie!"

All that action did was bring Snape's very agitated and slightly confused glare from Lavender Brown, who was the only student he had originally seen, to Osiris. The full weight of that glare was enough to make Osiris feel like sliding right down the wall underneath it.

Sorry for the long break. Death in the family, my sister abruptly almost dying and being on life support, and finals really took their toll. Anyhoo, here's a new chappie. Let me know that you are still out there! I need a pick me up after all of this. I miss u guys. ;-)


	12. You Mean Nothing

A/N - Sorry for the long delay, there's an explanation below

Stalking into the room, his eyes locked onto Osiris, he said to McGonagall, "Surely Professor you do not need help giving detentions for snogging in the hallways."

The woman huffed loudly at what she saw as a gross underexaggeration.

Professor Snape continued, "Surely you have given out plenty of detentions for this sort of behavior before…Or has this some particular circumstances other than being a Slytherin and a Gryffindor?"

The man had said that last word as if he had a filth in his mouth that he needed to be rid of.

"It has particular circumstance because of the severity of the…action," McGonagall replied, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

Osiris shook his head slightly and stifled a groan.

"Action," Snape replied, eying Miss Brown's tears and looking at Osiris' pale face.

"Yes, action," she said with a screwed up look on her face. Frustrated with the Professor's lack of understanding she waved a finger in the general direction of Professor Snape's groin. "You know," she added, hoping that he would not make her say fellatio. "He made her do it," she said, pointing a long finger at Osiris.

On cue, Osiris' mouth dropped open, "I _made_ her do no such thing!"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him, his face rather blank to an uneducated observer. However, Osiris saw that he both doubted him and wanted to believe him at the same time.

"I believe her tears are proof enough!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Yeah, because we got caught and she's embarrassed!" Osiris challenged back.

"ENOUGH! Mr. Silver, you are in enough trouble, I do not suggest you compound it," the agitated Potions master yelled at him.

Osiris leaned back against the wall he had abandoned and crossed his arms.

Professor McGonagall turned to Lavender Brown, "Miss Brown stop the hysterics for one moment."

Lavender looked up, her face nearly a fushia color, tears still tracing down her face. She sniffled and choked and coughed.

Professor Snape asked in his deadly whisper, "Miss Brown, did Mr. Silver force you to do anything against your will?"

She shook her head negatively, looking down.

"Did he use any magical means of inducing you to do this?"

"No," she whimpered softly.

McGonagall huffed.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow and then turned to McGonagall.

She pursed her lips and then said, "It doesn't matter what she did or did not want to do, Severus, she is not of age and _he is_!" she said, pointing to Osiris. "She cannot agree to any sexual act with him."

Professor Snape turned to Osiris, who looked positively stunned. When Osiris noticed the man's stern glare, he shut his mouth and shook his head protectively.

Lavender promptly broke out in loud tears once again.

Osiris stopped looking at Professor Snape for a brief moment and looked at her. He felt very guilty for how she was feeling.

When he looked back at Professor Snape, the man had closed to within three feet of him.

Taking a short breath, Osiris said softly, "If this is all about me then, can you dismiss her, I think she's embarrassed enough."

It was a rather gutsy move but it worked. At least he could count himself a gentleman in that regard.

After Lavender fled the room at McGonagall's stern nod, Professor Snape said very slowly and evenly, "Did you know that she was not seventeen, Mr. Silver?"

"No, of course not," he said, with a little more edge than he had intended. "sir."

"I've never heard such a blatant lie," McGonagall said.

Professor Snape shot her a look, "I do believe that is my area of expertise, Minerva," he looked back to Osiris, searching for signs of occlusion.

Osiris cringed slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of being mentally sifted through. He didn't have any reason to occlude and he knew that the man would look for it. He did not know that she was 16 and he was sure she did not know that he was 17.

"Your lack of knowledge is no excuse, Mr. Silver. Didn't you ever think that might be a pertinent question to ask? Especially as you are the adult party."

He shook his head negatively.

Professor McGonagall finally decided to interject once more, "I believe a suspension is in order." Her accent was rough and heavy with her anger.

His eyes narrowed at the Scottish woman, Professor Snape retorted, "As his head of house, I do believe it is for me to decide on an appropriate punishment. As you recall it was yours in a more serious circumstance a few years ago with two members of your own house."

Osiris watched covertly out of the corner of his eye through some of his hair at the look of hatred Professor McGonagall had on her face. Her lips were pursed so tightly that Osiris could imagine her teeth gnashing underneath. He had no idea what that statement had meant, but its effect was obviously very profound.

"Fine, do as you will with him, but I will have my eye on him, mark my word."

His black eyes focused on her like canons, the dark man replied, "I intend to."

McGonagall huffed shortly.

The Potions master turned his eyes on his apprentice and Osiris gulped unintentionally.

"Come along, Mr. Silver," he said in a dangerously low voice. It was the voice he most often used when he was in danger of losing his temper. It was the voice he used immediately before he would start spitting and yelling.

Osiris walked toward the door without a backward glance at the Transfiguration professor.

As soon as the door closed behind them and the cool, damp corridor met them, Professor Snape grabbed Osiris tightly by the arm and stopped him.

"I do not know what you were thinking, Mr. Silver, but I assure you that sort of thinking is going to be driven from your thick head."

Osiris scuffed the sole of his shoe on the floor.

"Did you purposefully miss class to do this?" The Professor asked, inadvertantly tightening his grip on Osiris' arm.

"Not specifically purposefully to do _that_, sir," he said, sounding more than a bit stupid.

The man growled and then said, "And what does that mean, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris sighed loudly, a little flustered, "What was I supposed to do, Professor, say 'no, no, don't do that'? I mean, surely you understand, surely you're not dead from the waist down-."

Osiris cringed inwardly as the Professor slammed his back against the wall, put one hand on his chest, and thrust a long finger into his face.

"I do not suggest that you ever address me with such familiarity again, Mr. Silver. My person is of no concern to you and if you ever get a notion that you _know _me, Mr. Silver, you are sadly mistaken. You mean nothing to me. You are nothing more than a cheap and gratifying way for me to get help with the least desireable aspects of my job and my research. You are nothing more than a gifted brain that I have to use for my personal benefit. So, were I you, I would not begin to think that our dealings are in any way social in nature. That said, personal benefit or gratification, of any kind, is no reason to miss class and certainly no reason for you to lose sight of any legal consequences."

Students began to filter into the hallway as class let out and some of the bolder students began to stare as they walked by.

Professor Snape continued on his tirade, "If you ever disgrace my house in such a way, you will find yourself out of it, apprentice or not. I could very easily hole you up somewhere to finish this apprenticeship and not allow you to see the light of day."

When the man stopped and pulled him off the wall and pushed him in the direction of the dungeons, Osiris felt a heat rising up in his chest. He was unsure whether it was anger or guilt or some mixture of the two. There was still a measure of shock in his mind as he truly registered what the professor had said to him. There had been, up until the last week and a half perhaps, an understanding between the two of them, unspoken as it was. There was a certain familiar comfort with the presence of the other, perhaps not a liking but an acceptance. Now was Osiris to really believe that the professor meant to use him and that he was no different from any student other than the fact that he had an obligation to the man…

Osiris knew that the Professor was angry though, that was abundantly clear. He could feel the hot breaths on his neck and the crushing pressure on his arm.

Only when they entered the Professor's quarters did the Professor release his hold on Osiris' arm.

His black robe floating sharply behind him, he paced back and forth a few times before stopping before Osiris again.

"You realize that you could have had charges raised against you as you are of age? A conviction would have been mandatory confinement. How could you be so abominably negligent and foolish?"

Osiris closed his yellow-brown eyes and then opened them again slowly, the man was letting his temper flare full force.

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know! And as for what you were supposed to do, Mr. Silver, you were to not have put yourself in such a situation where something like that could happen with someone who is not of age. Regardless of who initiated it, it is entirely your fault and your responsibility."

"I know, sir."

With another sharp turn, the Professor scowled and walked away, a growl trailing behind him.

"You've placed me in a difficult situation. I thought that you were intelligent, but that is clearly not the case. You are the first Slytherin, with a private room I might add, to get caught consorting in a broom closet. With a minor… Have you no control over yourself?"

Osiris stared back at him, part of him wanting to yell back or to defend himself and the other part feeling cowed.

"Very little control over yourself," Professor Snape continued, "a very loathesome situation indeed." He rubbed his arms roughly, no doubt trying to occupy his hands. "I should not have to deal with this, Mr. Silver. Flippant childishness. It is no wonder you've been expelled from one school already."

"That's not all my fault, Professor. You don't know what it was like, sir. I tried-."

"But you failed, apparently, failed to control yourself in any significant way. A safety concern, a discipline problem."

"But you even said that no one was there to stop the others from targeting me, what about my safety, or my brother's safety?"

With a dark glower, Severus snapped back, "You put on a very good act, Mr. Silver, letting Malfoy attack you, making it seem as if you had grown up a little, making it seem as if you were willing to make some concessions if someone were marginally concerned about your safety. However, you don't even have enough control to hold your own act up."

Osiris shook his head and narrowed his eyes, feeling very betrayed. "It was not an act. Do you really think I would subject myself to this for an act, for seven years! Thanks very much, you've made it abundantly clear that I am very insignificant to you and nothing more than a tool and an inconvenience, _master_." His lips pursed to keep him from saying even more, Osiris stalked by the Professor, intent of making it to his room so that the confrontation would go no further.

The way the man grabbed his wrist before he could make it by and swung him around, made Osiris think he was most certainly about to get smacked.

"I would your father was alive," he said, in a way that was most insidious for the statement he had made.

Osiris frowned and made one futile attempt to pull his wrist free, "Why is that, sir."

"Because he would give you the beating you deserve and be done with it," the Professor retorted. "It is remarkably clear that you lived your entire life without any sense of discipline or accountability. Your mother most certainly could not exercise any control over you, given your record and your temperment. Had you had a father for any of your more formative years, you would not be such a problem because he would not have allowed you to talk to _him_ this way."

Osiris stared at his mentor, the heat in his chest quickly transforming into anger. How could the professor pretend to know anything about what his father would have been like had he not been killed. How could the professor presume to tarnish his idea of what his father, that he never had, would have been like.

"How would you know what my father would do to me, you never knew him?"

His chin raised in a pompous manner as he met Osiris' anger with a decisive step forward, he retorted, "I know all I need to know, Mr. Silver, and you should check your tone. You are already on dangerous ground. You father was a Death Eater, and I most certainly know what Death Eater fathers are like."

Osiris' anger did not abate, however, it grew stronger, "My mother said that my father was a good man, that he was recruited when he was very young. He wasn't like them! That's why Voldemort killed him. He would not have just beaten me or hit me like I was some blemish to be corrected!"

"Foolish sentiment, boy, very foolish. Your father would likely have smacked you across the mouth until you couldn't talk if you addressed him as you address me and in that tone. Very few men start out cruel and cold, but the service of the Dark Lord makes one become that before too long. I do not know of one that does not regularly beat his sons, most especially the eldest. You would have benefitted from _some_ of that."

"I will believe what I want to believe of my father, that's what is important. It doesn't matter what you think of him." Osiris said, his lip curling. "You aren't my father and apparently I mean nothing to you, so if that's so why should my actions toward you have any relation to actions toward my father? My father would not have wanted me to be some automaton."

The Potions master glared hard at Osiris, up until a week ago when he had Osiris drink the poison, he was getting much to close to the boy and thinking too highly of him. He had given Osiris more liscence than he should have and now he was going to put the distance back where it belonged.

"You will exercise more control over yourself or I will be forced to teach you to have more control over yourself, Mr. Silver, and I promise you will not like it."

"Don't disrespect my father's memory then…sir," he added on the end as an afterthought.

"If you were half what I thought you were, Mr. Silver, I could say anything I want to you not matter how demeaning and you could maintain control of yourself. I will not stomach any disobedience or disrespect as I informed you of from the beginning and your lack of control is a danger. You would do well to remember that I do have the happy right to punish you in any way that I wish. As your master, I do not have to adhere to any policies the school might have surrounding that issue. So, if you fancy finding out exactly what you missed in your childhood, continue as you are."

Osiris bit his lip and stared, his eyes still full of fury. The thought of being half as strong as the Professor had originally thought was more bothersome than the promise of a harsh beating. Although, he had no desire to push it that far, if the professor was not bluffing. He had learned during his druidic rite that it was much easier to feel the pain before it happened and stop yourself from making it actually happen by opening your mouth.

"Very good, Mr. Silver," the professor said in his slow, deep voice, "I would be very unhappy if I were forced to explain why you were physically unable to attend classes to the headmaster."

Osiris took a breath through his nose. He wanted very badly to walk away. If he caved to his most sinister impulse he would have his wand out. He clenched his fists and started to feel his hands shaking with tension. He took another deep breath through his nose.

"It is difficult to control, isn't it?" The professor stated simply, in a low, reverberating baritone whisper, walking towards him a little. It was as if he was changing personas a little. "The tightness in your chest, the anger. It is the most difficult to control, Mr. Silver, but yet perhaps the most important. Even now, I can read it all over you, without invading your mind. You will learn to control it. I promise you that much."

A/N - To my good friends and also to my good reviewers... Two weeks after my last update, my sister passed away. It's been real hard to focus, and i haven't been able to write much until now. I'm hoping to write more now, but a few words of encouragement and some good reviews will keep me motivated. To those of you that I usually talk to on MSN, I hope to talk to you soon, but I've been really busy. I'm thinking of all of you! Especially Linden and Misty and VD. I can't wait to hear what you all think of this chapter. I am almost done with the next chapter, so the faster you let me know what you think, the faster you'll get another update!


	13. Ironing things Out

Thank you for all of the support! I truly appreciate it. Also, thanks for the timely reviews...as promised here is an update for you.

Ironing Things Out

Osiris stared hard at the knife as it cut its way through the green root, pushing sticky, yellow sap to the top of the cut. He repeated the process again, all his attention focused on the cut. It had been nearly three weeks since the incident with Lavender – a very uncomfortable three weeks.

Professor Snape rubbed silver granules between his fingertips, slowly adding a little bit of the powder to his cauldron at a time. He kept a stealthy eye on Osiris. They had not spoken more than was necessary in weeks. Osiris been giving him short, succinct answers to any question even though Osiris was once again on restriction and had no other meaningful human contact.

When Osiris finished prepping all of the Professor's ingredients for him and had cleaned up, he sad on top of the table and stared very fixedly at the cauldron the man was using. He pulled the sleeves down on his shirt and leaned his elbows on the knees of his crossed legs.

As much as Severus was loathed to admit, perhaps he had gone a bit too far in some of the things he had said to Mr. Silver. The boy had very obviously taken it to heart, especially the part about him being cheap labor to do his less desired chores. He was behaving as if the apprenticeship had nothing to do with his enrichment and everything to do with him doing the menial work that Severus didn't want to do. That was abundantly clear five days after the incident when he had gone to see Poppy about what potions she needed stocked. She pointed to boxes of phials she had stacked against the wall and said that it was very likely she was well stocked for a long time to come. It was after this that Severus realized what Osiris had been doing during his free time, since Osiris certainly did not spend any more time in his presence than was absolutely mandated. Prior to this Osiris would want to be around him when he was doing work. He would want to be around even if it meant having to clean things or prepare his ingredients for him. As he was right now, Osiris had only been helping him during the hours they had set. He did not even ask him questions about the work they had set and instead was content with muddling through his compositions on his own and then getting criticized about the unacceptable level of his work.

Raising an eyebrow without meaning to, Severus considered the situation further. He had meant what he had said about Osiris not being hit enough as a child. He often thought a good slap would wake him up a bit. Severus had even meant what he had said about the boy's father. It would have been easier to have that threat to hang over Osiris' head, and it was more of a father's job to deal with such…things… It would have definitely been easier to send him home to the man for a suspension if the man were not dead. Although, reflecting further, he really would not wish that on any child - having a Death Eater as a father. Thinking about it in his own rational mind, for he had been quite incensed at the moment, he certainly would not wish that on Osiris. It initially had been the boy's flinch which had caught his interest – a certain common background or a sense that they had one.

"It's 10, Professor, may I go?" Osiris said, cutting through his thoughts.

"No," he said, forcefully, looking out of the corner of his eye to see Osiris' reaction.

Osiris stopped in his position of sliding off the table.

The Professor chanced a dry look at him, "I said no, now sit down."

Pulling his body up with his arms, Osiris pulled his legs underneath him on the table and sat back down, without a word. He continued staring at the cauldron.

"Perhaps you are beginning to learn some control."

"It has nothing to do with control. I'm not hiding anything," Osiris said, quietly, but with a strong inflection.

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Silver."

"Well you've made it quite clear what you want, sir, and I'm giving that to you… like I was trying to do before, but apparently being human, seventeen, and making mistakes is not acceptable, so I'm doing what you want and not inconveniencing you any more than is necessary for me to make it through this."

Severus scowled, he hated to be put in any situation where he felt obligated to explain himself, even though he didn't want to.

"My office," he said, motioning to the door.

Osiris slid off the table, put his hands in his pockets and walked out of the classroom ahead of the professor, waiting for him to open the door to his office.

Severus sat in his chair, feeling angry with himself for not being satisfied with the turn of his apprentice. Somewhere along the line, he had developed some measure of fondness for Osiris, mostly of an intellectual nature. The boy was the only person in the castle that he could talk about potions to on any meaningful level.

Osiris stood there staring at him, his face rather blank, and his yellow eyes focused forward.

"You and I must come to an understanding, Mr. Silver. There are very specific reasons for why I have never taken on an apprentice before, and I informed you that I would have some very stringent expectations, mostly because of this. To which you said that you would do anything if I would take you on. Between you and I, there are not many people, Professors here mostly, who would look twice at a Slytherin and especially one with a record such as yours. As you said to me, if I did not, there likely would be no one who would. I have seen the avenues that a rejection could lead someone of your…disposition…you are intelligent, vengeful, and I daresay will be very powerful when you grow into some of your druidic powers-."

"You thought I would go over to Voldemort, sir," he said, definitely in disbelief. Nothing, nothing would ever make him go over to Voldemort, the man who killed his father.

"Don't say the Dark Lord's name…anyway it matters very little what I might have thought. What matters is that against my better judgement, I did give you that chance you asked for, and that puts us both at risk in a way that I cannot discuss with you right now."

"Why not, sir?"

"There is a very strong part of me that feels as if you should know, for your safety, but for the safety of many other people and because you cannot exhibit control, I cannot tell you. Back to the point, Mr. Silver. I gave you that chance, and you repaid me very poorly-."

"But-."

"Case in point, Mr. Silver, don't interrupt. This current behavior is as unacceptable to me as your prior behavior."

Osiris tossed his hands slightly up in the air, aggitated that his efforts had again produced undesired results.

The Professor narrowed his eyes at Osiris for the immature display.

"I'd rather have you here trying and committed to learning what you can than away not being in danger of not listening to me or not being respectful simply because you are not anywhere near me."

Staring balefully, Osiris said, "I thought that this apprenticeship wasn't about me, it was about you having a servant, for lack of a better term, to do your more menial work."

The potion's master growled before taking a deep breath. In truth, the boy could have used a good slap for that statement.

Instead he said, "Mind your attitude, boy."

Osiris retorted, "Well, that's what you said, sir."

Another instance where he could have used a good slap, but he didn't

Instead he slammed his desk loudly, which did make Osiris jump slightly, and he said, "That may have been what I said, Mr. Silver, but given the situation I was more than a little incensed. Had you not pushed me that far by your deplorable behavior, doing Merlin knows what sexual acts in a broom closet with a minor, I might have simply told you to remember your place. We are not on familiar terms and are a far cry from ever being such, and you would do well to remember that you are my apprentice and that what you do reflects poorly upon me."

Pursing his lips tightly, Osiris fought back the desire to roll his eyes.

"Something to say, Mr. Silver?"

"It's not likely that I am going to make my situation worse, is it?"

Closing his eyes slightly, wondering if he was willing to open that door, the Professor finally answered, "Not likely, no."

"Well, sir, since you were right in saying that I do not know you very well and you have said that there are very good reasons why I need to obey you immediate, which makes me a little concerned, what makes you think that you have done anything to make me trust _you_ enough to do that?"

By the time that statement had left Osiris mouth, the Professor had gotten up out of his chair and a few moments after Osiris had asked his final question, the man was standing right in front of him. Osiris shrunk back slightly.

"Were I you, I would rethink that question and not dare to ever ask it of me again. If my word is not good enough for you, Mr. Silver, then I suggest you pack your bags right now. If you did not have a proper answer to that question before you asked me to apprentice you, in the sorry state that you were in, perhaps you should not have asked me at all."

Osiris didn't have anything to say to that. He just looked down somewhere near the man's chest.

"And if you have enough nerve to ask me such a question, I would suggest that you have enough resolve to be able to look at me when I am talking to you," he said, fixing a hand tightly on Osiris' jaw and pulling his chin up, which was a strange movement considering that Osiris was only a few inches shorter. "I should think, Mr. Silver, that you would have enough trust in me in order to sign your life over to me for seven years or have had enough desire to do this in order to forego such a level of trust. Either way, you do not have that option as an excuse for you lack of ability to give me some deference."

Osiris swallowed, "Could you let go of my face, please, sir?" He definitely did not like being touched.

With a huff, the man let go. "Is this still what you want?"

A slight frown forming on his face, Osiris knew that despite this being difficult and rather frustrating, he could not think of doing anything else. "Yes, sir," he said, "You know this is what I want."

"Then you need to show me that is the case, because I no longer get that sense."

For a short moment the man paused to look closely at Osiris, but then he continued, "And I do not expect for you to be perfect, Mr. Silver. If you make a mistake then be properly ashamed, accept responsibility, and take your punishment. For Merlin's sake don't make excuses like a child would, because while I believe saying that you are sorry is rather useless, appearing as though you are sorry makes it clear to me that you know you did something wrong."

Osiris swallowed and pursed his lips. He said very hesitantly and quietly, "I think sometimes I do not appear very sorry, because I am looking for some confirmation that I have someone on my side, sir, or someone that understands, or someone who is willing to be skeptical of what someone else says about me."

Osiris said it very matter-of-factly, but there was more there and the Professor knew Osiris well enough to know it.

"And?"

Frowning, "I'm not complaining, sir, and I'm not saying that I never did anything to deserve it, because we both know that I have…But there have been loads of times where I have been very strongly dealt with for something that I didn't really do, something that was not as bad as it was made out to be given the situation, or something that I had to do to protect myself. Nobody ever saw that, Professor, and I guess I'm still trying to make someone see."

Raising an eyebrow but slightly, Severus replied, "I may not understand _everything_ that you do Mr. Silver, I may not be on your side _all_ of the time, but I most certainly am skeptical of what I hear about you. If I was not, I _would_ have suspended or expelled you by now, if not for that fight the first night you were here, most certainly three weeks ago. Anyone who has ever been a Slytherin in this school knows what it is liked to never be believed or knows what it is like to feel like nobody is concerned."

"I guess so, sir. Sometimes, given what I'm used to, it's just very easy to forget that I have gotten some benefit of doubt."

There was something inside of the Professor that made him want to ask exactly what Osiris had meant by 'severely dealt with' because it such an uncommon turn of phrase, but he let it pass.

>>>>>>>>>

Osiris stared sleepily as he revised his notes for his recitation the following morning. If he had discovered one thing he hate more than being called on in class spontaneously when no one volunteered to answer a question, it was being alone with Professor Snape in the man's office while he orally examined him on chapters and chapters worth of material.

His first recitation had been the day after the McGonagall incident, and that had been a complete and utter fiasco and embarassment. He had truly known less than 30 of the material, had blundered his way through another 50, and had been completely at a loss for the other 20. He had enjoyed an hour lecture about not wasting the Professor's time, taking his readings more seriously, and spending time each night preparing and revising instead of hoping to do it all in a few days.

That failure had put him behind two weeks, because all a fail meant was that he still had to pass that material.

He had failed his second one a week later, but not by so far a margin.

After his talk with Professor Snape, the man had graciously decided to allow him an extra week to prepare and catch up since he now had three groupings of material to master. That was over three hundred pages worth of material, which nearly had to be memorized the questions were so specific.

Turning the page of his notes, he closed his eyes and went through the steps to making a virulensus poison. He opened his eyes slowly and sighed gratefully, he had gotten the steps correct. He closed his eyes again and went through what happened each step of making the potion by describing how the ingredients reacted to each other.

He rubbed his eyelids and closed his notebook. That was the last page of sixty-some-odd pages of notes. He checked his watch, enough time for four hours of sleep before having to stand in the man's office for at least three hours being a human encyclopedia of potions knowledge.

Scowling, he stared at his calendar on the wall. He had two compositions due on Monday that he had not started yet: Charms and Runes. Plus, he had a defense practical on Monday as well, but he was quite certain that he could fudge his way through that. Afterall, Professor Lupin couldn't curse him if he couldn't get through Osiris' blocks, which of course wasn't the nature of the practical necessarily, but worked none the less. He might not get full marks, but he didn't really need them. Professor Lupin was generally so lax, Osiris wasn't even so sure he would mind it if Osiris used other techniques than the ones they had practiced or the ones in their chapters. Defense was more about general skill than specifics anyway, at least at the low level they were at, which was far lower than the level to which Osiris was capable of defending himself.

He decided that he would worry about Monday after his exam in the morning and afternoon. Afterall, he was fully capable of writing such a quantity in eight to ten hours, but he was a little behind on his theory in both classes. He needed sleep now.

When he entered Professor Snape's office the next morning, the man's face was very impassive, as it most always was under classroom or examination conditions. Osiris cracked a knuckle and then another as he stood there, uncomfortably waiting for the questioning to begin.

"Well, Mr. Silver," he said thumbing a thick pile of paper, "There is a lot of material to cover, so I would suggest admitting if you do not know an answer as this will go much faster that way."

"Yes, sir," he said, looking at the stack and wondering if it was full of questions or if the Professor just had groupings of information that he would frame questions about when he came to it.

"Why is ginger root commonly used in most poisons?"

Osiris almost leapt at that question before he answered, "It does not serve any active purpose, but it does mask the bitter or alkaline taste of many ingredients that are toxic or poisonous in many poisons that act very quickly. So, it reduces the likelihood that a person would be able to seek an antidote effectively."

The Professor continued without giving any feedback, "What is the most crucial consideration in making an antidote to a Hebrete sting?"

Osiris bit his lip while going over the instructions for the antidote in his head. It was a very complicated antidote, at least for his level, and many steps seemed crucial. None of his readings had identifies one step in particular.

"Er, temperature would be the most crucial consideration, because there are so many liquid ingredients. If you were to assume that one could effectively time and mix the ingredients, the most important thing would be to adequately change the temperature after the second, fifth, and lasts step because if you did not, some of the ingredients would turn into gases or become solids."

"Why would that be such a problem?" The Professor asked as a follow-up.

Osiris stared, he was obviously supposed to be able to figure out that answer and it could not be as simple as 'then your antidote wouldn't work.' He was suddenly beginning to feel very warm and beginning to sweat a little bit as well. Unconsciously, he pulled the sleeves up on his black, long-sleeved shirt.

"Um, because your newt's blood neutralizes you nightshade and your kneazle tears neutralizes your monkshood, so if either of those were to evaporate, your poison antidote could just as easily turn into poison if the nightshade and monkshood are allowed to react."

Osiris shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not even knowing if that was true because some of the other ingredients could probably cancel out that reaction as well, but it was the best intuition he had.

"How would you go about testing the purity of Unicorn tears."

Panic spread up his body, he had no recollection of anything like that.

"I don't know, Professor."

"You don't know," the man repeated, as if asking him if he were sure.

"No, sir, I don't know, er, ask an obliging Unicorn and collect them from the source yourself."

The Professor raised an eyebrow and gave him an acerbic look, "Very funny, Mr. Silver."

Three long hours later, the Professor made a mark next to the last question he had asked. Slowly, he steepled his hands in front of him, "So, how well did you do?"

"Better than last time, sir," he said, hopefully, but not assuredly.

"If you had not, would I be asking you this question?"

Osiris considered for a moment before saying, "No, sir, you'd probably be telling me how poorly I did, lecturing me about how substandard I am, and not be at all concerned with how I feel I performed if I had done so badly again."

Slowly, the Professor stood up and crossed his arms appraisingly, "So, I repeat, how well do you feel you did?"

"There was a lot that I didn't know, and I think it had more to do with my ability to integrate the information than recall information I had read. I don't think I did as well as you would like or expect me to, but I think I did acceptable."

His black eyes conveying very little, the man said, "You are very correct in saying that you are integrating poorly. It makes me concerned about how much you actually understand versus how much you have memorized. You need to be able to think much more critically about what is happening when you are making potions above a NEWT level, Mr. Silver."

"Yes, sir," he said, dreading to hear that he failed yet again.

"However, these first few groupings I have had you learn have been for one specific purpose. I need to know that you can exercise some level of caution when working around me or with me on my research, just the same as I need to know that you have tolerances to certain things you may come into contact with. Fortunately for you, this is material that you can only come to understand with time and with a lot of experience. Over the next two years you will gain both and will probably come to realize that I will be testing you all the time. The information that you must know for your two year orals for the governing board is much more to your level and is general not poison-specific. Most of your preparations for these session will be with that material from now on."

"So I passed, sir?"

"Yes, you passed, but as you said, certainly still not up to my expectations. I should remind you that everything you learn is cumulative, so you should be prepared to use any of that information any time I call upon you to do so."

"Yes, sir," he said, dreading the fact that he would be required to retain so much information.

"Now, I have to dwell in tedium for the next few hours, grading essays. Perhaps I will require your assisstance later tonight."

"Whenever you need me, Professor, I'll just be catching up on some homework," he said, hoping that the Professor would not need any help. Osiris was surely in need to help getting 72 hours worth of work done in 36 hours.

Let me know what you think of this chapter. This is a very hot-cold relationship that I am trying to paint. Also, at one point in time someone commented that Osiris was a little OOC when he was being bad, but I was really going for the fact that he is rather impulsive. (Did you guys get OOC like 'where is this coming from' or did you get impulsive,or a now that I have what I want, I can relax a little bit.) Once a little more history comes in, you'll all understand why he is the way that he is. He means well, but has a hard time doing well. THis chapter is one where I tried to show this. ;-) If anyone has any ideas how I could convey this better or can point out a place where I do it well, I'd appreciate it.


	14. Strange Happenings

Monday came much too fast for Osiris' taste. He was working on minimal amounts of sleep because he had spent so much time writing his assignments. His eyes kept fluttering shut in Runes, but he managed to make it through, despite numerous disapproving looks he earned throughout the lesson.

During Charms he felt a little more awake because they spent the first half of class practicing what they had learned the last week. The second half, however, was a different story. Flitwick's high, squeeky voice, while annoying, was not keeping him very awake. He had his arms folded on the top of his desk and his chin on top of his forearm. Slowly, he lulled in and out of the lecture.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was an entirely different story. As they were doing their practical today, Professor Lupin was taking one student at a time into his office to run through the exam, which was only a few minutes long as it was simply a pass or a fail. Unfortunately Osiris was to be the last student to go as they were going alphabetically by house and then alphabetically by student.

When Professor Lupin followed Pansy Parkinson back out into his classroom, he was surprised to find that the last student to take the exam wasn't quite ready. His hair completely obscuring his face, Mr. Silver appeared to be fully asleep on his desk, his back rising and falling slowly.

The professor rubbed his chin and then sat down at his desk. He took out his quill and began transferring his notes from the practicals to a coherent critique and a grade on slips for the students for next class. Every one and awhile he looked up to keep an eye on his slumbering Slytherin.

About three hours after their class had ended, Professor Lupin lifted his head once again when he heard rustling.

"So good of you to join me, Mr. Silver," he said with a slight smile.

Osiris blinked twice and then sat up, wincing as several vertebrae in his back cracked and several muscles in his neck cramped. He looked up at Professor Lupin before he jumped out of his seat and nearly fell backwards over his chair.

"Professor, I, I can't believe I fell asleep. I'm sorry, sir," he said, pushing his hair out of his face.

Professor Lupin shook his head slightly, "Why don't you and I go into my office, I believe we need to have a talk.

Osiris nodded and followed the man up the stairs and into his office.

"Take a seat."

With his soft eyes, the professor watched Osiris sit down in the chair opposite the desk and proceed to look down at his knees.

"As of late, you've been looking very worn out, Mr. Silver, having a difficult time paying attention. I do believe I've even seen you reading other notes in class. I know you have a very easy time in this class, but it is hardly proper to use class time for such things."

"I know, sir," he said quietly.

"Is Professor Snape keeping you that busy with your apprenticeship?"

"Yes, sir," he said, feeling that honestly was best.

"He is rather demanding," Lupin commented, smiling slightly. But, Osiris missed the smile, as he was still looking down.

"Yes, sir, he is."

"I believe he hopes it will keep you out of trouble."

"Probably, sir."

Lupin smiled again, it was a slight surprise to him that a Slytherin would be so respectful of him. He had heard a lot about Osiris, as had most the Professors. Mostly about the boy's prior school record and some things from Minerva or even an offhanded comment from Severus. His experience of Osiris was slightly different.

"If I remember correctly, and I am quite certain that I do, you and a young Professor Snape share a lot in common. The same proud defiance, the same silent vengefulness, the same intelligence. However, I do not think that Severus would have even allowed himself to be chastised by a Gryffindor, which very often found him in much more trouble than he would have been in had he minded his attitude."

Lupin smiled again at the strange look on Osiris' face as his words sunk in.

"What, sir," he said, not sure that he heard that right.

"Nevermind, Mr. Silver, nevermind. Back to the issue at hand… you fell asleep during class and slept through your practical, and most of dinner I might add."

"I'm really, sorry, Professor," he cut in.

"I expect that you are, knowing Severus and his likely reaction, but I am not angry with you."

Frowning, Osiris said, "You aren't," as though the Professor was joking with him. Surely a prior Gryffindor would take an opportunity to rightly bust a Slytherin.

"No, I am merely concerned that if this keeps up, you are only setting yourself up for a failure."

"It won't happen again, sir." _Concerned? _Osiris thought. _About my DADA performance? Pfff, as if I couldn't do this with both hands tied?_ The thought did not cross his mind that the man might merely be concern about him period.

"Mr, Silver, if you would stop interrupting me, I'm not talking about my class or anything to do with my class. You need to sleep in order to retain information. You will not be able to perform in any of your classes or for Professor Snape if you do not use your time more wisely, and that, I am afraid, may prove to be an uncomfortable situation for you."

"Yes, sir," he said, almost as if on autopilot and as if he did not hear the last sentence at all.

Lupin shook a finger at him softly, "This is not a lecture, Mr. Silver, I am not Professor Snape. Does he really require you to spend that much time with him that you cannot complete your other assignments?"

"No, sir, he doesn't require me to…"

"But you like to?"

Osiris bit his lip, "I dunno, I guess so. It's interesting."

Lupin sighed, "And you aren't allowed to do anything else, so I suppose that is better than sitting in your room by yourself doing assignments."

The Professor watched as the young man nodded.

"You are on Restriction for the remainder of the term because of an incident with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir. It's longer than until the end of term too," Osiris said, sounding down, "Although there isn't much else I would choose to do, I guess."

Professor Lupin smiled, nearly in a sad sort of way. Another characteristic that reminded him of a younger Severus. Mr. Silver was a loner, the quiet but dangerous sort of a loner. He postulated that the two of them, Severus and Osiris, were good for each other, but he knew how difficult Severus could be. He knew that Severus was very critical of his apprentice and very set upon giving him some discipline. Given his situation, Lupin was not sure that he blamed the other man, but still. Any teenager needed a little breathing room for fun and for mistakes. Behavioral suffocation and a lack of understanding could just as easily have drastic consequences for a Slytherin and Severus should know that, from first hand experience.

Lupin sighed, deeply. Perhaps Severus needed a little reminder, but he knew the man wouldn't be willing to get it from him. In the meantime, he could do something to give the man's apprentice a push in the right direction.

"Well, Mr. Silver, I guess I will be forced to do something about your inability to get through your practical. I believe the rest of the week in detention would be adviseable."

Osiris cringed, so much for Lupin's concern, Professor Snape was not going to be happy with that.

"Afterall, I do believe that's the only way I am going to be able to ensure that you get either time to sleep this week or time to work on your other classes, because that is what you will be doing in detention. Of course, we will give Professor Snape no such details."

_What? _Osiris thought. Then he said, just to make sure, "You are giving me detention so that I will have to get away from Professor Snape and make time for sleep?"

"Yes, and I do believe that you will have to do something to make up for your missed practical as well. I think I would like it if you would help me with a little project, Mr. Silver."

_Help? Sure there's a catch. _Raising an eyebrow skeptically, Osiris said, "You wish for me to help you?" _With what, decursing objects? So that I can screw up and get cursed?_

"Yes, Mr. Silver, I do. You see, you come from a very different background than most students here," he said, scratching himself behind his ear.

Osiris' eyes got very large. _How? What? Merlin!_ His blood pressure soared.

"Do not worry, Mr. Silver, that knowledge is safe with me…And a different schooling background as well. I would like for you to help me with a demonstration next class period. We will talk more about this little project after that class."

"What sort of a demonstration, sir." He hoped it had nothing, nothing whatsoever to do with what the professor had alluded to about his background, at least not directly.

"You'll see."

Osiris walked down to the dungeon that night dreading seeing Professor Snape, because although Lupin was not angry and had not really given him detention, per se, Professor Snape did not know that. When he walked into the classroom, late for their tutorials because of the fact that he had been with Lupin, Professor Snape was already working on bottling a potion.

"You're late, Mr. Silver, and you are on restriction, where have you been?" He asked, eyeing his apprentice out of the corner of his eye.

Cringing slightly, "With Professor Lupin, sir."

The Professor took the note that Osiris handed to him and glanced at it.

"Detention for the rest of the week," he said, glaring at Osiris who was looking down. "It isn't as if Lupin is always handing out detentions, Mr. Silver, quite the contrary."

"I know, sir," he said, keeping his voice even and low as if he really had done something very wrong.

"And what happened that he set you detention for a week?" The Professor asked, deciding to hear an explanation before he automatically got angry.

"I fell asleep in class, Professor Snape, and I slept right through my practical."

Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously, "Asleep."

"Yes, sir."

"Very disappointing, Mr. Silver. My guess is that you left a lot of work for this weekend so that you could get through your recitation?"

Osiris pursed his lips and nodded.

"Do I have to keep that close a watch on you, to make sure that you complete your assignments and get sufficient sleep, so that you don't receive detentions which take away from my time?"

"No, I'll manage, Professor."

"We'll see, Mr. Silver, perhaps you will be spending a lot of time in this classroom."

"But, sir, I've already received detention," he said, hoping he did not sound whiney.

The Professor raised an eyebrow, "Did I say anything about detention?"

"No, sir."

"Then do not presume that I mean to have you doing something that should consume your time even more and make it harder for you to finish your work."

Osiris felt bad for assuming the worst, but he felt it warranted. Almost anyone would have assumed that of Professor Snape. Didn't requiring him to be in the classroom, regardless of what he was doing, constitute detention?

"Then what are you alluding to, sir?" He tread carefully.

While Professor Snape was generally the sort not to care what students had to resort to in order to finish his assignments, he knew that setting more time-consuming jobs was not going to teach Mr. Silver not to fall asleep in class, but was going to directly lead to more of it. Not that there was no place sleep-stealing detentions, because a well-placed night long detention had its use for any student intent upon breaking rules, but in this case it was not going to get him or Mr. Silver anywhere.

"If you can take care not to cut a finger off or grind it up or burn your skin off, perhaps you should try to read for your classes while you are preparing my ingredients."

Wide-eyed and his lips parted slightly, Osiris stared at the Professor.

The man raised an eyebrow at him and then labeled the potion he had just made, allowing Osiris time to swallow the statement and close his mouth.

_He's helping me? _Osiris thought, then he rephrased it. _He's letting me help myself? He's suggesting…Bloody hell! _

Still sensing a bit of disbelief and some budding gratitude, an emotion which Professor Snape knew could get him very far with regards to his apprentice's respect and obedience, the man continued, his voice growing much more serious. "And if, I repeat if, your performance in your recitations improves, your attitude improves, and your level of work for me improves, I may even entertain a few questions when I am not working on a research project and do not need to concentrate so heavily. However, I caution, I will not do your work for you, but I might be persuaded to help you think things through." _Afterall, I cannot have Gryffindor professors preying on a Slytherin, which they most certainly will do, _the Professor thought.

_Now he's helping me! This is bizarre…_

"Afterall, if you continue to receive detentions, that is going to take away from the time I have with you, and that time is valuable. I will not have you being irresponsible and causing that to happen. If that means that I have to actively prevent that, given your level of self-control, I will. But, merlin help me, if I make these concessions and you receive one more detention or one poor mark, you will not like the consequences."

_Slightly self-interested, but help none the less…_

The Professor continued talking about what those possible consequences might be, "I would be more than happy to give you plenty of detention and then have you brew your own pepper-up so that you can stay awake all night long to get your other work accomplished. Pepper-up with surely keep you awake enough, despite having next to no sleep."


	15. Delving into the Dark Arts

Delving into the Dark Arts

Winter holiday was fast coming upon them, but Osiris was not happily awaiting a break from classes and a trip home to his family. No, his family was dead or unknown to him, save his brother, and Heru was doing his Rite of Passage this year. He wouldn't be home for Christmas either.

The last few weeks, while moving very fast, had proved very interesting. He had his first ever encounter with Professor Snape's most-loathed student, otherwise known as the would-be savior of the wizarding world: Harry Potter. The Gryffindor shared a few classes with him, being that he was not in Newt Runes and certainly not in Newt Potions, but never warranted Osiris' attention and he had never warranted Harry's until after one surprising DADA lesson, the one Professor Lupin had needed his help for….

Professor Lupin, his voice much less jubilant than it usually was began class by saying, "This year, we have learned how to protect ourselves from certain curses and hexes and spells; however, we have not yet really learned how to protect ourselves from truly Dark Arts. One could argue that the Dark Arts are Dark because they are used with the primary purpose of hurting others, but this is a very elementary and wrong definition...although that is the one most commonly used by others."

Students began flipping their books, the only definition they had really seen defined the Dark Arts much similarly.

"You understand, when our world was in a much better state, it was argued that children should not be confronted with what true Dark Arts really are, because they would not likely come into contact with them. This is hardly the case now, and no, this is not in your books, for that very reason."

Lupin looked at the faces of the students, each perplexed, each eager, but they would not be very eager for long. Mr. Silver's face looked appropriately concerned, though schooled to blankness, and serious.

"So, who can tell me what the Dark Arts are?"

Every Slytherin, except for Mr. Silver, smirked as if they had the great knowledge, but Lupin doubted very much that they did, in the entirety. If not for knowing that he came from a school that taught them, Lupin knew that Mr. Silver knew because Lupin knew that Osiris was a druid. His smell was impeccably good at picking up on such subtle differences and that was one of the subtle differences he had picked up on right away.

Druids were not necessarily identical to wizards, especially in genetic makeup. They were fundamentally different, which is why the ministry bordered on labeling them Dark or Magical Creatures, if they weren't otherwise humanoid. They weren't necessarily Dark either, although druids believed and practiced all forms of magic, limited by nothing. That was Dark to the ministry, and not a far cry different from being a Death Eater.

"Mr. Silver, your prior school taught the Dark Arts, did it not?"

The watched as Osiris drew in a breath through thinly parted lips, "Yes, sir."

"Would you care to tell us what the Dark Arts are?"

Another moment of appropriately hesitant silence as the boy reflected upon how to put this carefully.

"They use our magical capability to call upon forces that are not of this world, or any world known to us. Theory tells us that the Dark Arts work by calling upon powers from other dimensions. But they are in essence Dark for one reason, we cannot fully control them and once unleashed, they are difficult to direct, manipulate, and banish. They can be used to hurt people, but they are, in their place and in cases of dire need, very useful."

Lupin looked around the room again and noticed how everyone was hanging on to their classmate's carefully chosen words. However, four faces looked distinctly different…three for the same reason, doubt of the word useful, and one for a different reason which Lupin could not discern from his face. They were the faces of Harry, Ron, and Hermione… and Draco Malfoy.

"Very good, Mr. Silver, and what may happen to the caster?"

Another hesitant moment, not of reflection, because Osiris knew the answer, but of phrasing. He wanted to be correct but succinct, and truth be told they did not know everything about what happened to a frequent conjurer of Dark Arts; much seemed related to individual disposition and succeptibility.

"Well, sir, I would not say caster, but rather conjurer, because casting implies that it comes from within the person and it does not in 98 of cases. The conjurer becomes the link between this world or dimension and the other, and we are not sure exactly what long term effects of this are. Insanity seems to be plausible, as well as the robbery of what makes us a part of this world in many cases…"

Draco Malfoy snickered, and Lupin refrained from shooting him a look for his ignorance, as if he truly knew.

"Would you be willing to show us what the true Dark Arts look like, Mr. Silver?"

The boy pursed his lips as if deciding if this were really very wise. He nodded, supposing that in this war they would have to know and the Professor was asking him to do it, afterall. However, something like this was never without personal cost… Lupin was helping him, though, and he felt obligated to pay that back.

"Come on up here then," the Professor said, trying his best to smile, although this was not as exciting a lesson as the majority of the class thought. "Use it against me," He said, with as much Gryffindor bravado as he had.

Osiris knew that he could not explain his movement, could not tell them what he was doing, because Merlin help them if they should ever try it on their own. He praised whatever powers that be that he had some capability for wandless magic, because he should be able to do it without speaking a loud incantation to focus his magical energy.

Lupin said once again, "Something strong, Mr. Silver, but something you can sufficiently control. I cannot promise that I can block it."

This evoked a response from most of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff section of the class. It seemed more than a bit risky to allow a Slytherin, who was taught Dark Arts in school of all places, to conjure something that the professor might not be able to block.

Licking his lips apprehensively, Osiris took out his wand, a wand designed for the infusion of light and dark. Certainly not one from Ollivanders. There were far better crafters of far more rare and ancient materials. It was long and solid, strong and commanding.

He faced Lupin and said, "Are you sure, sir. If you do not counter it…Do you want me to tell you what I am going to do so that you know that you can?"

Lupin shook his head, "If anyone is ever attacked, they will not have the benefit of knowing by what. I want the class to see how serious this really is."

Osiris nodded slightly and spaced his legs apart to brace his stance. Even the most miniscule things could knock you off your feet if you were not prepared. He closed his eyes lightly, and swished his wand left and right and then up and down, covering himself in a protective magical shield, before pointing it at the floor. The thud as the link was established reverberated throughout the room, causing one Gryffindor boy to jump. Osiris breathed in deeply, keeping his eyes closed to keep his concentration. One would not be so careful if using this in battle, but this was not. He stepped forward into the pentagram that had formed on the floor in flames of blue not higher than a centimeter.

Murmuring more words that no one could hear, he opened the link, the all too familiar feeling coursing through his entire body, his veins dialating with its presence, his heart pumping hard but slow. He opened his eyes to look at his target, holding his wand ahead of him, hoping that he could channel the forces through his wand and not let them simply escape out his body or mouth.

When he spoke the next words, the floor beneath him shook once more with a loud bang as a strange purple light seared outwards and upwards through the pentagram he was standing on and through his body, the only vehicle that would allow it to escape the marker on the floor, and out his wand.

Nobody in the classroom saw much of anything, no jet of light from the wand, no knives flying through the air. No one saw anything but Lupin.

The second Osiris' wand tip flared purple and then faded, the Professor jumped backwards, a look of pure horror on his face as he yelled one counter. Osiris could not hear what it was he was so effected by the power he was attempting to control within his body.

Osiris knew what he was seeing, as he had seen it before himself. It was a lovely method of torture to the unsuspectingly faint of heart. A blackness filled with only daemons, a hallucination of sorts, in that the daemons were not corporeal but specters. Osiris was not even really sure if it was purely hallucination or if it were opening the defender's eyes to the other dimension, even if he was not in it. However, if kept long enough the curse would cause an aneurism in the visual cortex of the man's brain. He knew if the man did not get it together, he would have to banish it himself, but he did not want to do that in front of the Professor Lupin's class. That might be sligtly embarassing.

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In the midst of teaching Potions, Professor Snape stopped dead in his tracks, his hand grabbing for his wand. He had felt it sure as if he himself had done it and knew immediately that someone had unleashed Dark Arts within the castle walls. Ones strong enough to permeate at least ten floors of castle.

The door slammed the wall as he threw his classroom door open and ran upstairs, not giving so much as a word to his class in way of an explanation.

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Lupin closed his eyes, hoping to free himself of the gruesome apparitions surrounding his body. He still felt their chilling presence, but forced himself to stop yelling pointless counters. _The demons must not be real, they must not be. Mr. Silver would surely not unleash real hellhounds in my classroom._

The Professor held his wand up, and yelled "_Hinbas Afflictare!"_

Osiris scowled, not good enough, not nearly good enough. He would have to break the link himself. He frowned in concentration and closed his eyes once again.

Lupin tried again, flicking his wand strongly, "_Eraditas!"_

Osiris, deep inside of himself, opened his mouth to break the link, but was struck by a force with an unmeasureable amount of pain. He screamed harshly enough to chill someone's blood as the force tore back down throughout his body. Much worse than the Cruciatus…

Warmth wrapped around Lupin as an enumerable gust of power swept over him and through him. Moments later he opened his eyes to the furious black canons of Severus Snape. Osiris had not broken the link himself, Severus had, but how, how had he known?

That thought was broken when he looked to see Osiris' reaction, but Osiris was sprawled on the floor, like deadweight, his wand still gripped tightly in his hand. Professor Lupin, stepped forward to go to him, but was arrested by Severus' strong hand on his chest.

"What possessed you to do such a thing, Lupin?"

"The headmaster knew, Severus, he agreed that they need to see it, need to know the more common and simple ways of defending against it."

A snarl forming on his mouth, "How dare you ask him to do this, how dare you. Did the headmaster know you were going to ask a student to conjure them?

"Yes, I told him of the plan, Severus. What did you do to him?" Lupin asked, pointing to Osiris' still form.

"All too willing you both are to make sacrifices of Slytherins, because we're all Dark already in your minds," he hissed, the continued, "Were you too afraid to do it yourself and have him defend against it?"

Lupin was at a loss for words. He had not thought of it that way, because he had never done more than study this and practice the defense against it.

"Or have you never done it before, werewolf," he whispered, heatedly. "Do you not know how it feels, or how to control it, or apparently how to stop it?"

"Severus, I assure you-." He was going to continue about having had Osiris' safety in mind had Professor Snape not interrupted him viciously.

"You have no idea the magnitude of what you asked him to do, Lupin, none, because you have never experienced it. This was no simple conjuring, it's not like flicking your wand and hexing-."

"I asked him to make it strong. Severus, the students need to see what they are up against."

Severus growled, "Then don't ask a student to show them, do it yourself and suffer your own consequences."

With that last word, he pushed Lupin aside, muttering about Dark Creatures being afraid to conjure Dark Arts, and walked up to Osiris.

"What did you do to him," Lupin asked again, imprudently going where a less foolhearty man would not have gone.

_Gryffindors_! _What did_ I_ do to him! No regard for what _he_ might have done some insignificant Slytherin who no doubt does this on all occasions! _The Professor thought angrily before responding.

"My first reaction in such circumstances is the strongest banishing I know, given that I didn't know what he conjured, how long you had endured it, and if he was still in control of it. For all I knew, the both of you could have been close to death," he hissed, so that the students wouldn't hear.

The class watched in silence and rapt attention as Professor Snape felt Silver's neck and then opened both his eyelids with his finger. Most had never seen anything like the Dark Arts display they had just gotten and hoped to never see it again.

"Unlike you, Lupin, I have never seen him use Dark Arts, and don't know how adept he is at it. Despite what you might think," he grated. "His apprenticeship is in Potions."

He knelt down next to Osiris, pointed his wand at the boy's chest and said, "_Luminare Regeneas."_

No sign of waking. Giving a perturbed look at Lupin first, he pulled his dolt of an apprentice up from under his arms, with a surprising lack of difficulty given Osiris was far from small, and then laid him partially across Lupin's desk, his limbs dangling.

His lips tight with aggitation, Professor Snape put both his hands on Osiris chest and closed his eyes. A well practiced hand felt Osiris' magical energy as still within him. He concentrated deeply on transferring, slowly, his own magical energy into Osiris. His banishing had sent all magical energy back to where it belonged, and unfortunately that usually had the effect of sending a wizard, and most especially a druid, into magical shock.

Within a minute, Osiris' eye fluttered open and he tried to sit up and failed. A little magical transference had done the job, although transference and counter-transference could also be considered Dark Arts when used for less than benevolent purposes, like waking someone up from severe magical shock. Instead of sending some of his power to Osiris temporarily, he could have, almost as easily, sucked power out of Osiris permanently.

"What happened?" Osiris muttered, putting a hand to his throbbing head. He then noticed that it was Professor Snape standing over him and Professor Lupin in the background.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

"Putting an end to Lupin's little experiment," he said, grabbing Osiris' arm and pulling him into a sitting position.

Osiris frowned, finally understanding why he felt like death warmed over, "You banished it… I was about to sever the link, sir." He sounded slightly drugged. The tempo of his words very slow, his tone lacking range.

"I banished it because I felt its presence from the dungeons, Mr. Silver, and it was a reaction. I could not know if you still had control and it was quite clear that Lupin wasn't fighting it effectively."

Scowling darkly, his eyes turning back from amber to greenish brown, Osiris said, "That really hurt, sir," pushing himself into standing up. "_Really_ hurt."

The Professor grabbed his arm again when he almost fell down, "Perhaps that will keep you from ever doing it again, even if someone is foolish enough to ask you to do it."

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	16. Discussions

Discussions

Harry Potter looked seriously at a drained Remus Lupin for a minute before the man realized that Harry was still there.

"How is he here?"

Remus regarded Harry closely, so much anger in so little time. He was a very different boy after Sirius' death, and he was also sure that Sirius was rolling over in his grave in reaction to the change.

"How can he be allowed to be here," Harry said, yet more anger filling his voice. "No wonder Snape likes him."

"Professor Snape. And the knowledge that Mr. Silver was forced to have is not his fault, Harry. Nor would I suppose that he would ever use it for the purposes you are thinking of. Everything is not black and white."

"What isn't black about Dark Arts?"

"What isn't Dark about a werewolf?" Lupin challenged back with a bit more aggravation that he would usually have shown. "You should know better than to make assumptions about a person's character like that. There are shades of grey within everything. Dark Arts can be used for good, traditional magic can be used for evil."

"He knew it was hurting you and he did not stop it. It was sick. What's good about that?"

"He did it because I asked him to, so that you all would be able to see what the real Dark Arts are, not the darker curses and hexes that Mr. Malfoy knows. That is what is good about it. Now you know. I would think that you, of all people, Harry, would want to know what you need to defend against."

Harry did not back down, however, "That doesn't mean that he had to let it go on that long. We all saw it, there was no need for him to keep doing that. He didn't do anything to even try to stop it. It was long enough that Professor Snape got up here from the dungeons."

Remus sighed, "He was going to stop it, and it really was not as bad as it could have been. A transformation is ten times worse yet."

Harry glared.

"Do not be afraid of him," Remus said.

"I'm not afraid," he spat, "I just cannot believe how really unprepared this school has made us! And they allow all the Slytherins, who are just as good as Death Eaters, to do as they please under Snape's supervision, of all people."

"Harry…"

"No, do you realize that the only students who know anything about real Dark Arts are the Slytherins!"

"Actually most of them just know some very nasty curses and hexes, not true Dark Arts. Perhaps they know one or two mild ones that most blocks will take care of."

"That's more than the rest of us know."

Harry spun around and left.

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Osiris was walking back from the Great Hall to work on his Potions composition, when he turned the corner, finding Harry Potter standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

"What you did today, do you know a lot of it," Harry said, calmly and succinctly.

His eyebrow raised, Osiris answered, "Yes, I do, but I know plenty of other things as well that are much less Dark." _And perhaps just as powerful_.

"Will you show me?"

"Pardon?" Osiris said, shocked that the miracle boy of the Light wanted to see more Dark Arts.

"Will you teach me?" Potter reiterated.

Fighting off the desire to slam Harry into the wall to drive the point home, he said, "No." _Certainly, bloody, not you dolt!_

"Why not, afraid that I might use it against you?" Harry said, stepping forward.

Osiris offered a saccharin smirk at Potter's infantile tactics of manipulation, "No, I am concerned of what _it_ might do to you, not what you might _try_ to do with it."

Harry pursed his lips, "Show me how to defend against it then."

Osiris' eyes darkened considerably into a deep shade of amber, "Don't you understand, this isn't levitation or first degree transfiguration. It is not something that you can simply learn. In order to teach you how to defend against it, I would have to do it. At this point in time, I am not powerful enough to sustain it on a frequent basis, nor do I wish to put myself on that plane with any frequency for someone else."

Harry muttered, "You may not be powerful enough, but Professor Snape is," although there was no way he would ask the man.

"And if today was any indication for you, he would not teach it to you either. For Merlin's sake it is _dangerous_ Potter, don't you realize that? We are dabbling with forces that we were not meant to manipulate, and your kind was surely not meant to manipulate it because you have no respect for it."

"My kind, what do you mean, Gryffindors!"

Osiris exhaled, he had let something slip very badly. Good thing he had said your kind instead of wizardkind. Mistakes like that could have very serious consequences. Instead of staying there to explain, he pushed Harry out of his way like a ragdoll and continued down to the dungeons.

Harry thought, _Snape could be teaching me much more useful things than Occlumency from last year. Lot of good that did._

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Professor Snape stared roughly at Osiris when he walked into the open classroom door looking rather perturbed.

"You look very poor, indeed, Mr. Silver."

Osiris, still fuming over Potter, said much more acerbically than he had meant to, "Yes, sir, thanks to your very efficient banishing."

"You earned it," the Professor retorted. Then he continued, "Feeling otherwise right?"

Osiris sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I'm fine, Professor."

Severus stepped up to him and unceremoniously tiled his head up and pulled down on the bottom of his eyelids one at a time.

Scowling, Osiris said, "Sir, I've never Shadowed, nor even come close." _Although it looks as if perhaps you have, _Osiris thought looking at the Professor's dark eyes. However, upon close inspection they looked dark charcoal grey. _Perhaps not…_

"A surprising amount of proficiency, then, with a generally low level of practice?" The Professor asked, letting go of his apprentice's face, questioning him about his knowledge of the Dark Arts.

Sighing, "I didn't necessarily say that, sir."

Raising an eyebrow, "Then what are you saying, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris was not sure he wanted to go down this road. The Professor knew that he was a druid, but there were other very closely guarded facts about himself that he had never shared with anybody and was not willing to share. He may have enough trust to give his life to the man for seven years, but that said nothing about giving away everything about his person during that seven years.

"Although it could be said that I have many druidic traits, my strongest powers are mind powers, which are the ones you need in high reserves to use Dark Arts with any amount of safety, sir."

"So a high level of very controlled practice of the Dark Arts, Mr. Silver?" _This is an unexpected turn and perhaps something I shall have to monitor, given his temperment. _

Shrugging, Osiris said, "I'm not necessarily proud of it, sir. And that's what it was, practice, not use."

"You will not blame me then for checking for signs of Shadow?"

"No, sir," he answered, knowing that Shadow was a very dangerous condition resulting for exposure to other dimensions and such from Dark Arts use.

Professor Snape regarded him very carefully, something was definitely bothering Osiris and it had little to do with the aftereffects of conjuring Dark Arts. The boy would normally have been much more engaged in a conversation, and questioning, especially one of a serious nature such as this. Instead he was answering carefully, but not behaving as he was wont to.

"You realize, Osiris, that I am not angry with you, but rather with Lupin. I only suggest that next time you make it much more clear what it is that someone is asking you to do before you _refuse_."

"I will, sir."His thoughts briefly shifted back to Professor Snape._ Rather welcome to know that for once he isn't angry with me, especially considering what happened today._

Scowling, the Professor realized that wasn't it either. He opted for a more direct approach. A brooding person was not a person you wanted brewing a potion, and that was exactly what he wanted Osiris to do. In this state, he'd be more likely to create a mess or melt his first cauldron, than brew the potion successfully.

"What's bothering you, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris played with the edge of the book on the table and then set his shoulder bag down on the floor, "I've just met Harry Potter, although we didn't exchange introductions…"

"Ah, no doubt…_No _doubt, harrassing you for what you did in class and warning you not to come close to him or his friends or he will curse you good, or try to curse you good before you retaliate."

It was funny how much different the Professor's attitude was when talking about Harry Potter. It was too bad he did not feel similarly about Draco Malfoy.

"Surprisingly not, sir."

This statement definitely caused the Professor's eyebrow to arch in question, "No?"

"It boils down to the fact that Potter was ignorant enough to ask me if I would teach him the Dark Arts."

This caused the man's dark eyes to widen considerably.

"I basically told him to go to hell," Osiris elaborated. "He even tried to insult me into to doing it, quite funny actually."

Ignoring his own sentiments about Potter for a moment, and his apprentice's frustrated profanity,the Professor said, "And this bothered you?"

Shrugging again, Osiris said, "It wasn't really that, sir, I guess I just do not like it when people assume that because I know those arts that I would be eager to use them. He would have had more luck asking someone who does not respect strong magic."

"That as it should be, Mr. Silver. Potter doesn't understand many things, nor does he acknowledge shades of grey. He respects nothing and no one." The professor made this last statement with a lot of disgust in his voice.

Osiris turned his yellow-green eyes on the Professor, "Is that why you hate Potter so much, Professor?"

The man narrowed his dark eyes at Osiris, wondering if it was wise to answer that question. "Potter holds the hope of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders, whether it is merited or not, as he seems to be set upon disregarding every attempt made to help him, teach him, or keep him safe. He has no respect for rules and no ambition. Potter doesn't realize that he will have to be much more than that if he is to survive, much less defeat the Dark Lord."

"I don't know him, but my guess is that is true."

"Do not seek to remedy that situation. There is nothing an association with Potter could bring you. The only commonality between the two of you is your impulsive nature."

Osiris frowned, "You do not think that I am like him then, sir."

The Professor scoffed, "Not in the least, Mr. Silver. One commonality is a far cry from similarity. As if I would tolerate Potter's presence. I was happy to be rid of him in class."

"I am a bit angry with myself, though, Professor. I got so aggitated. I slipped up," he said, shaking his head critically. "I said 'your kind'. He was stupid enough and took it as meaning Gryffindors, but still. It's not something that I should allow to happen."

"Definitely not, Mr Silver, which is why you must learn to have much, much more control."

Professor Snape frowned deeply. Those lessons about control had to be forthcoming and Mr. Silver needed to learn them quickly. There was no room for mistake with anything concerning him.

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A/N

I don't know about how often I will be updating this week and next, my grandfather is now in the hospital. He has emphysema and I guess they are now saying that he is in the final stages. I am flying out to see him in a few days. If any of you out there are religious, I would appreciate a prayer or two. I've been through a lot these last few months with my sister's death, I'm beginning to wear down a bit, losing my optimistic view of the world, if you will. I will try to update and write though, because hearing good things like the stuff you write in your reviews and emails and msn convos keeps me going. They are appreciated like you could not know. ;-)


	17. Realizations

Realizations

Professor Snape was hesitant to admit it, even to himself, but his apprentice was proving to have a surprising amount of proficiency when pushed hard enough. Potions was not about ability to follow directions, but more about intuition and knowledge of how magical ingredients mix together. Mr. Silver had that sense.

Unfortunately, Mr. Silver also had ample amounts of teenage boy sense. While he never complained about anything Severus asked him to do, nearly never cheeked him, he tended to test the rules and, in that way, insult Severus' intelligence. It just so happened that Severus was beginning to understand just why it was teenage boy sense that was leading Osiris awry. Pride and the opposite sex were definitely driving forces for the boy.

He recalled an interesting incident just the other day and the consequences which led to an interesting discovery…

Professor Snape raised his eyes over his teacup as Osiris walked out of his room in the morning, he rarely walked out through the Slytherin common room anymore. His straight, black hair was pulled back rather haphazardly, his manner very tired.

"Have a good night last night, Mr. Silver," he questioned, silkily, an ulterior motive hidden beneath his tone.

Osiris stopped dead in his tracks, "Er, why do you ask, sir?"

Professor Snape smirked, knowing that he was most certainly right in his suspicions.

"Perhaps because it is six o'clock in the morning, you have the girl known through the school as a flirt next to you under an invisibility cloak. One can only assume the circumstances."

He enjoyed watching all minute amount of color drain from the pale boy's face and his mouth hang open as if waiting for words to just spill forth out of it.

"Ms. Brown, you can take off that silly cloak now."

The look of mortification on her face was even more priceless. Professor Snape was sure that no matter what spectacular gifts Mr. Silver had to offer her, that she would not repeat this act again right under his nose.

"Professor, I-."

"Mr. Silver, shut your mouth."

Osiris chanced a look at his girlfriend before gulping.

This was only too enjoyable for the professor.

"Ms. Brown, I do hope you have had a birthday recently, or is it your hope to deprive me of an apprentice and see your boyfriend confined?"

"I've had my birthday two weeks ago, sir," she squeeked.

The Professor turned to Osiris, "At least you heeded one of my warnings, if not the other, the first was the more important."

Severus raised a brow when the boy had the presense of mind to not reply to that.

"Next time, Ms. Brown, take care to not get Mr. Silver into even more trouble than he already is in, as he is incapable of doing so for himself. You have just as willfully disobeyed my rules. I believe a week of detention with Filch will serve you good and twenty points from Gryffindor."

The girl's eyes began to water.

"However, I do believe we can generalize the circumstances such that Professor McGonagall will not be the worse off."

She looked up at him in disbelief.

"It is certainly not a gesture for you, you silly girl, but I could not endure your Head's prattle if this were to surface as is and Mr. Silver needs no help to blemish his own reputation."

He turned his glare to Osiris and stared him down until he bit his lip with discomfort.

"Ms. Brown, get out of here and do not let me ever catch you here again."

She muttered some high-pitched answer before hastily exiting.

He held out his hand, "Cloak."

Osiris handed over the item as if it were burning in his hands.

"Where did you get this?" He said, holding up the soft item in his tight grasp.

"I've had it, sir," he answered, quietly.

"How many times have you used it?"

He shrugged, "I have never used it, sir, at least while here."

Severus glared at him as if that were the most stupid lie. How many students would not ever use an invisibility cloak if they had one – especially a student who was restricted from being about in the first place.

Osiris' eyes were very large and open, very dialated. He didn't look like he was lying.

Suddenly, Severus nodded in understanding, "You can disillusion yourself, and in most situations that ability is enough to do what the cloak would do, but Ms. Brown cannot?"

Osiris nodded.

Severus stood over him, "And how many times have you used that ability to disobey me, Mr. Silver."

The boy put his hands in his pocket, "None, save that once when you caught me."

The Professor's face showed slight disbelief, "Are you lying to me?"

"No, sir, that'd be rather stupid wouldn't it, I know you are a legilimens?"

"Yes, it would be rather stupid, but then again so is having a girl in your room overnight when you are supposed to be on restriction."

The guilty look on Osiris' face was the classic, "I'm really, really sorry, Professor Snape," but the Professor was happy that Osiris wasn't the type foolish enough to say it.

"I should think that you would know better by now, but you continually prove me wrong. If you cannot control your hormonal impulses, you will find yourself on the receiving end of a potion that will make you incapable of acting upon them until a later date."

"Yes, sir," he answered, very downcast.

"Now, since you are up at such an early hour for a Saturday morning, you can make the trip to Hogsmead for me to buy more ingredients. Then, you can start processing all of them. Then, you can reorganize the storeroom to fit them in."

Osiris frowned, "Professor, I thought you were going to have me work with you on research this afternoon."

The man smirked in an evil sort of way and then answered, "Not anymore, Mr. Silver, you have lost that privilege."

He held out a paper to his exhausted-looking apprentice.

Osiris took the proffered list of ingredients and specifications. This task would take all of the morning and most of the afternoon, just getting the stuff to Hogwarts. Professor Snape did not use magic on any of his ingredients and preferred them to be taken from Hogmead to Hogwarts unaltered. This mean no lightening then, no making them smaller, no levitating them. Although it wasn't said in such a way, this was most definitely a punishment.

"And, Mr. Silver," he added sternly, "I expect the ingredients you choose to be up to my standards, so I suggest you take your time and make careful consideration of quality."

"I will, sir."

"No side-trips either, or I shall know."

Osiris frowned slightly, "I wouldn't do that, Professor."

"And how should I know that, Mr. Silver, when you make a habit of disobeying me in the first place. Should I think that you would read rules in between the lines when you don't read those on the lines?"

"No, sir."

Sighing, Osiris walked forward to head to the door, but the Professor grabbed his arm before he made it by him.

"Did I dismiss you?"

Osiris looked up at him, slightly irked, but it was carefully masked. Not that he could mask it completely from the Professor.

"No, sir."

"Then do not presume to leave. It amazes me with your intellect how often you forget necessary formality."

Osiris pursed his lips slightly, but didn't respond. Another indication to the Professor that Osiris was at least learning something about the proper way to deal with his master.

"You do realize, Mr. Silver, that I should put you on restriction for the entire year for your inability to control yourself enough to abide by your restriction now. I will not be expected to lock you in your room to keep you from giving in to your impulses. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Professor," he responded, definitely not wanting to be on restriction any more than he already was.

"Another instance where it would have been useful if you had a father, because then perhaps you would get the slap you so richly deserve. Perhaps then you would clearly understand, because deprivation you clearly do not understand."

Before Osiris could clearly think what was coming out of his mouth, because he did intend for it to be self-defeating, he said, "You do have that right as my master, sir, even if you don't have it as my professor."

The man tightened his grip slightly and said in a very deadly whisper, "Mr. Silver, I control myself quite well, but there is a very fine line there. If I chose to let my anger out, it does not trickle, it bursts. You do not wish to be on the receiving end of that, because I assure you that if that happens the very least you can expect is to get smacked."

"Sorry, sir," he answered, gritting his teeth for the pressure on his arm. He hadn't meant for that statement to make the man angrier.

"I know I have that right and if you were smart you wouldn't remind me of it. Now, I suggest you close your mouth and get to work."

The Professor watched as Osiris retreated out the door. He was agitated that he would be tempted like that. It was all he could do not to give in and slap him. Merlin knew that he had that urge multiple times with his apprentice, even before he was his apprentice. But what Severus did know was that if he were angry enough to break down and slap him, he wouldn't stop with once.

He was agitated that he could have an apprentice with that much potential, that he actually, dare he say, liked working with, who could not manage to suppress his impulses enough to obey Severus' rules and accept his punishment. The Professor had never once had someone who violated a restriction. Anyone who had done something bad enough to merit one had been scared enough during the receiving of one that they didn't dare look sideways at him in class out of fear. Mr. Silver was not afraid of him in that sense. It did not seem that Mr. Silver was afraid of much of anything. Severus was used to respect with fear, and was slightly befuddled with respect without fear.

The boy respected him, of that he was sure. He might be a little intimidated by him, but he was certainly not afraid of him. It was strange to have someone who did not respect him because they feared him. Mr. Silver had not cheeked him since their last long conversation about his behavior, the one about him taking Severus' comments about being a servant to heart. This was somewhat of a record considering how often they were in each other's presence and the extent of what he considered to be cheek. Or, perhaps it was that Mr. Silver could say things to him, without him finding offense, that other students could not.

Perhaps he was beginning to understand Osiris too much – did he understand Osiris enough to know when something is directed at him, and should be considered improper, and when something was said because of a mood his apprentice was in due to something else.

Professor Snape directly remembered Osiris' earlier comment, something to the effect of 'yes, sir, thanks to your very efficient banishing.' He frowned deeply, yes, that was definitely something he would consider disrespectful to say, but he had understood that something was bothering Osiris. He had dismissed it, he had let it go and he hadn't even realized it.


	18. Uncovering Secrets

WARNING ONE MENTION OF SEX AND MINOR SEXUAL CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF YOU SHOULDNT BE READING!

Uncovering Secrets

After seven trips back and forth to Hogmead, Osiris had finally brought back all of the ingredients that he had been sent to get. His arms were sore and tight and his eyes were threatening to fall shut on him with sleepiness.

The previous night had been a bit of a surprise, to say the very least. Lavender had her seventeenth birthday a week or so prior and so it was finally legal for them to be doing certain things. What he was not expecting, given her level of practice with some things, came at the most awkward moment. He closed his eyes in recollection. They had been in a relative state of undress snogging for a good long time before he was beginning to tire of that. In an effort to gain some relief, he had worked her over for a good half an hour before she had literally exclaimed that she wanted him then and there, in not so few words. Of course, who was he to refuse. It had been a long, long time, months since he had actually had sex with his last girlfriend. He had just incanted a contraceptive charm and entered her with as much reserve as he could possibly muster, when he pushed up against the one thing he had not expected.

Lavender, who was lauded as being an outrageous flirt, who gave incredible head, was a virgin. Being that his blood was not where it should have been, he asked her why she had not told him, freaking out that perhaps this was not the best idea. He was far from a virgin, very, very far.

He opened his eyes and exhaled, knowing that he couldn't ponder that line of thought much farther, or it would cause him much discomfort for the rest of the evening when he couldn't get it taken care of. Suffice to say, she had said that she was nervous about it and wanted to make sure that her first time was with someone special, who also knew was he was doing and wouldn't hurt her. She had heard some pretty bad stories from other girls. So, of course, he had felt obligated to be as considerate as possible, which was very difficult with how bad he just wanted to burn one off with all necessary roughness and vigor.

This was the cause for how tired he currently was, because he had been up for most of the night making up for months of deprivation. He closed his eyes again and growled at himself, if he didn't stop thinking about it he was going to have the most uncomfortable hard-on. And even though robes concealed that sort of thing, he did not fancy preparing ingredients in the same room with Professor Snape in such a state.

_Potions. Batwings. Lizard intestine. Manticore eyes. Thestral saliva. _He said over in his head, diverting his attention from the troublesome thoughts.

He walked through the open classroom door with the last parcels and set them down in the corner, next to the large stack of barrels and boxes.

Professor Snape was exactly where he had left him, brewing some sort of potion for his research. Osiris had not dared to ask him anything all afternoon. He knew it would not be well-received. He set up his supplies to prepare the ingredients: knives, pliers, mortars, pestles, phials, bottles, jars. After pulling the nearest box over, he took a burlap bag out and placed it on the table. He sat down on the top of the table cross-legged and began extracting intestinal parts from the whole fruit bats in the bag.

"Mr. Silver, Potions masters do not sit on tables and if you ever hope to be one, I suggest that you do not either."

Osiris glanced over at the man and their eyes met. The Professor narrowed his eyes as if warning him not to contest him, which Osiris wasn't going to do anyway.

Putting down the knife first, Osiris slid off the table, not mentioning the fact that he had been sitting on tables for quite some time and the professor had not censured him for it before.

His muscles and tired legs protested immediately, but he muttered a "yes, sir" knowing that he was responsible for this redoubling of criticism for his breaking his restriction.

Eight long hours later, during which he had taken only one fifteen minute break to eat something, Osiris had finished preparing the ingredients that had been available. There was still more he would have to pick up tomorrow when the store got a fresh shipment.

Professor Snape was still silently and stoically working on his research project. Osiris knew better than to incant anything in the room when there was a potion in progress, so he began cleaning up everything he had used by hand. When he was done with all the utensils, he scrubbed the tabletop and the floor around him.

His master still had not said a word to him, since his comment on sitting on the tables. Osiris walked up to him and watched for a few moments before he gestured to the table that the man had his ingredients on and said, "Do you want me to do those for you too, sir."

"I believe you still need to organize all the new ingredients into the storeroom, Mr. Silver."

Osiris shrugged, "I have to go back tomorrow and pick up some things out of the new shipment. I can't organize all of it until I have all of it. I'll do that all tomorrow, Professor Snape."

"Then start chopping those roots into 2 millimeter cubes," he said, not bothering to look up again.

Osiris complied, swallowing slightly. He was going to have to abide by his restriction unless he wanted loads of trouble. It was easy for him to tell by the professor's attitude that the man's patience was wearing thin and that Osiris' life could be made much more miserable than simply being on restriction. He actually felt badly. Professor Snape had actually been treating him quite well. He had kept his word about allowing Osiris to read his texts while working and had even allowed him to ask a question or two. He had been allowing him to make some very difficult potions. They had even had a few good discussions.

There was no saying that he was sorry, but he could try to convey that with his actions. If he was already doing all the tedious jobs, the Professor wouldn't have to ask him to do it as punishment.

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When Professor Snape came into the room slamming the door loudly behind him in agitation, Osiris looked up and closed his book with a cringe. He was all to used to the man's mood fluctuations. It was highly likely that Potter was the cause.

"Mr. Silver, I do believe I have some work for you to do."

Osiris flicked an eyebrow up, surprised that the declaration had not been harsher, "Er, right, sir."

The man motioned to him impatiently. Osiris followed, frowning and pushing his hair behind his ears.

"I haven't introduced you to some of my more valuable research tools, but we will remedy that tonight."

Osiris walked into a room in the back of the dungeons right after the Professor. However, it was only Osiris that nearly jumped back out the door when he saw the room's occupant. Coiled in a corner, raising its head, and spreading its impressive hood was the biggest King Cobra Osiris was certain he had ever seen, or at least it seemed as if it was. Immediately, Osiris began sweating in the heat and humidity of the room.

"Ever milked a snake for venom, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris gulped and stepped forward again so that he was next to the Potions master, "No, sir."

Raising a dark, thin eyebrow, the man asked, "Ever seen it done?"

"Yes, sir, but not often, and not on a snake this big."

"Best be careful then, a bite would prove most painful and unfortunate, even with a ready antidote." He smiled, sardonically.

Professor Snape believed, like most druids, that most skills, when they were to be learned quickly, were best learned under possibly painful situations. However, what he knew and Mr. Silver did not, was that this particular cobra was not likely to bite him unless it was really provoked, probably hurt, by the boy.

Osiris crunched up his nose, slightly, "You aren't going to show me how?"

"So that you can see it done yet one more time, Mr. Silver? You will learn very quickly what to do and what not do, I assure you."

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Osiris stepped up carefully. He knew that snakes do not actively attack, unless they are hungry and the object is a prey item. Osiris was a bit big to be considered prey, so he was sure the snake wouldn't come after him. But, the snake would strike protectively or if aggitated. Even so, it could only strike one and a half as far as it could stand tall. That did not get him near close enough to get the snake by the head and coiled as it was there was no hope that he could get it by the tail and hold it up. Even if he could, he would need a stick or something to hold its head down against the ground so that he could grab it.

_Okay, cobras follow movement. I've seen this… Merlin, it's big._ He was not having an easy time calming himself down. _Too bad I cannot employ the easier way of doing this…especially since Professor Snape seems intent upon watching me do this._

As he got closer the snake raised up higher, opened its mouth, and hissed loudly.

Osiris cringed, walking slowly, his left hand held out fully in front of him about at chest level. The snake focused on it, hissing loudly. Exhaling Osiris mentally reassured himself before moving his left hand back and forth about a foot over the snake's head and about six inches in front of it.

The large snake turned his head slightly to follow the movement and swayed about three inches to each side as Osiris' hand moved from side to side.

Slowly, Osiris put his right hand out as well, over the middle of the snake. Holding his breath, his heart thumping rapidly, the started lowering it closer and closer to the snake's head, still moving the other hand to draw the snake's attention.

He exhaled and quickly brought his hand down, closing it over the snake's hood, over the back half of its head. With it in his grasp, he pushed the head down to the ground, where he carefully snuck his left hand under his right and took the snake's head tightly behind its jaw. The thing's head was nearly as big as his hand! He picked up the snake's body with his right hand and wrapped it around his waist, supporting it and holding it so that it didn't freak out. It was big enough that it if fought him, he could easily drop it and that would set him up for a very bad bite.

Carefully masked surprise on his face, Professor Snape held out a large collection container. Osiris put the snake's nose in front of the glass and the snake obligingly bit over the rim, spilling a large amount of venom into the glass.

After Osiris released the snake, Professor Snape led him out of the room.

"Very impressive, Mr. Silver. I thought you've only seen that done a few times?"

Now that it was over, Osiris could shrug, "Well, sir, I've only seen snakes milked a few times, but I've seen loads of cobras. Our business was in southern Egypt, Professor. While cobras can be big, they aren't very aggressive are they? And they are much more responsive to movement. I couldn't have done that with just my hands on a more aggressive snake, because I don't know anything about them. I've seen idiotic street muggles playing with cobras."

"The way you handled the snake suggests that you know more than you are letting on, perhaps you have been not telling me the entire truth," the man said, skeptically.

Osiris shrugged again, his orange-brown eyes a bit mischievous, "Sir, we've never talked about what animals we prefer as familiars. I have two Columbian Redtail Boas. I also have an Albino Burmese Python and a Snow Burmese too, he's pure white with black eyes. I just have never been around many poisonous snakes. I've been around loads of snakes."

So, Mr. Silver preferred a snake as a familiar, which he did as well, although he was not about to let on. It was not likely that Mr. Silver would suppose that he would keep a large, potently venomous king cobra as a familiar. Not many wizards would even keep a snake as a familiar, let alone a poisonous one. This snake had been a gift from his father when he was very young, a gift Severus had always figured had been meant to kill him, although that never happened, obviously. It was his first ever triumph over his father: one of few. That was how he knew Mr. Silver would not end up as lunch, or amusement.

As he almost always did, the man raised an eyebrow appraisingly, "And, tell me, which do you keep here even though they are not allowed, Mr. Silver?"

A crooked smile appearing on his face, Osiris answered, "Well, sir, the headmaster said I could bring one so long as no student ever sees it and it doesn't leave my room. So I'm not breaking any rules. I brought the snow with me, he's the most valuable, Apophis."

"Apophis?" _The serpent god, yet another Egyptian name, _the man thought. It was finally an acceptable opportunity to ask Mr. Silver about his bloodlines without seeming too suspicious. "And how much Egyptian blood do you have, Mr. Silver?"

That question caused Osiris to stop walking and look at the Professor. It was a very direct question and he was not sure how much the Professor was reading into that question. Egyptian blood was sort of a paramount of pureblooded wizardry and druidry. The first ever recording of wizards and other creatures in history was in Egyptian mythology. He reminded himself to remain sufficiently guarded.

"My mum was full blood, my dad, an eighth or something, so a little more than half. Why do you ask, sir?" He tried to play it as easily as he could. If he acted in the least way suspicious, he knew that Professor Snape would pick up on it, even with his eyes closed.

"Well, Mr. Silver, you have an Egyptian God for a name, as does your brother if I remember correctly. So, I was confirming a suspicion based upon that, your place of business, your black hair, and your eyes. However, and more importantly, that is a very ancient ancestry to claim and very few families can, little more ten perhaps. But, given that your father was not full-blooded, it would be much more difficult to deduce a likely identity of him."

"Yes, sir, it would be, but why would that matter?"

"I would think it would matter very much to you, Mr. Silver," He said, to pull his apprentice's suspicions away from himself.

"It does, sir, but I've been told that there are good reasons for my lack of knowledge. I have respected that, though I am beginning to think that I am old enough to know regardless. There is no one to actively keep me from it now."

A faint thought was running through the Professor's mind and it was slightly distressing to him, but highly unlikely. Salazar Slytherin was full-blooded Egyptian, pureblood wizard, and a druid. Voldemort, while meeting none of those conditions, did meet the condition of being part Egyptian. That would be reason enough for the mother's desire to keep the father's identity such a secret, but was not in line with Osiris' story about his father being dead…But at one point, the Dark Lord was dead, was he not? And he would have been gone right about the time that Osiris' father had been killed, if indeed Osiris' mother had fashioned a lie the times needn't be perfect.

Professor Snape frowned. He was reading far too much into this. It was just as likely that Sirius Black was the boy's father, or even Regulus Black. He scoffed angrily. He was part Egyptian as well and there would have been an equal reason for Osiris' mother to explain his absense by death and Black consorted with plenty of women. The Blacks were even of enough influence to be in a position to associate with a full-blooded Egyptian family. Yes, he most definitely was reading too much into this. Druid Rite very rarely skipped generations. You either were or you were not and your offspring either was or was not, but generally could not be unless you were. Neither Voldemort nor any Black was a druid.

Storing the venom from the snake in his personal stores, he asked, "What was your mother's name, Mr. Silver?" Perhaps it would be a familiar name to him. Perhaps he would remember it, as his family had previously had some contact with some full-blood Egyptians families.

"I should think it would be very apparent, sir, although I admit that I am not so sure it is her real name."

The Professor frowned, he had read the woman's research journal, but he had never seen a name on them.

Osiris cleared his throat, "Should be very apparent should you know your Egyptian mythology very well, sir."

"It is hardly proper to quiz me, Mr. Silver." He admonished.

Shrugging, Osiris said, "Thought you might like a challenge, Professor, I apologize."

Scowling, Severus realized that this was the best way to get the information that he wanted, even if he would have to manipulate a little bit to get it.

"I will indulge you, Mr. Silver, although my mythology is very out of practice. Your brother's name is Heru'ur, Horus, correct?"

Osiris smiled slightly, wondering if the man was stalling a bit, "Yes, sir."

"Horus, however, is the son of Osiris, not his brother."

"Well, sir, we've used the names, but we haven't recreated the exact family tree."

"Else his name would be Seth…"

"A much more boring name…" Osiris said, another slight smile tracing his face.

"Would your mother's name be Isis?"

"Yes, sir, at least so far as I know."

Osiris watched with a keen eye, wondering at the furrow in his master's brow. It was a very strange line of questioning indeed.

The Professor's lips pulled into a thin line, he did not know anyone by that name. It was as fair a guess as any that all three of their names had been fabricated and changed by the mother in order to stay hidden from the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord, as he had killed Osiris' father, would easily be able to find them with such distinct names, if those were the names they had previously gone by.

"Something the matter, sir?"

The man turned his eyes, which were looking very harsh at the moment, and said, "Nothing of your concern, Mr. Silver."

Osiris frowned.

"You will go through my private stores and get rid of anything outdated or spoiled, or that will be so over the holiday. We will leave at the end of the weekend after the staff meetings, so I suggest you begin your packing after that."

"Yes, sir," he said, knowing that he couldn't question any further.

"And, we will need to discuss some rules for holiday as well, since we won't be residing at the school. We will do that later tonight when you have finished your work," he said, leaning on the cabinet, moving his upper body threateningly close to Osiris. "And, I trust that I do not need to remind you that you have a recitation tomorrow morning that I expect you to be fully prepared for. Mediocrity is not acceptable to me, perhaps it is to you, but a pass will not simply placate me. Mediocre talent is not to be rewarded in an apprentice, Mr. Silver, because what you know will ultimately always be attached to my name. You should be immeasurably better than any of the imbeciles in my NEWT classes, sixth or seventh year. Which is why most students are apprenticed after they are finished with school, you are already expected to know that material to an outstanding NEWT level."

The Professor paused to glare at him and make sure that he was listening.

Osiris noted the pause, "Yes, Professor."

"You may be at the top of my sixth NEWT class, but that is hardly a difficult feat for someone with your natural ability. You should already know all of those potions and all of the theory to a high pass level, which I suspect you do not even though you sufficiently prep before class."

"I know most all of the theory, sir, and most all the properties of the ingredients used. I just haven't memorized all the preparation instructions or made all of the potions before, but I do memorize them before class."

The Professor scowled nastily and said in his harshest voice, "Yes, you've started memorizing them now because I failed you for a day for not having done so and now you know I do not allow you to use your book during class."

Osiris looked down and muttered, "I memorize them," he said, "Even if I just memorize them before class, no one else has to, sir."

The Professor smacked his hands down on the table that separated them, "No one else is apprenticed to a master in that class, so I suggest you get used to being held to a higher standard. The fact that you are still taking classes, deprives me of a lot of my training time with you, and I will use my classtime as I see fit to cultivate those skills in you."

Osiris scowled, darkly, he hated being lectured. But he ultimately knew that saying anything was a mistake.

"Yes, sir," he acknowledged, trying to not show his anger on his face.

"I expect you to know this material and if you ever hope to be a master, you will need to know it. You should be able to assist in all of my classes, first through seventh, as my apprentice, but sadly your knowledge of the curriculum is limited if not in theory, at least in experience. You cannot know if students are brewing something correctly if you haven't memorized the instructions or made the potion before and you will quickly lose credence as an instructor if you have to refer to notes because you do not know an answer."

Osiris pursed his lips slightly before he said in a very even voice, "I work very hard, sir, to do what I do now. I spend every spare moment on it when I am not working with you or for you. I only sleep four hours a night as it is."

The Professor drew an eyebrow up and looked down at Osiris disdainfully, "Perhaps if you did not spend your time violating your restriction, you would have an easier time of it, Mr. Silver. Complaining about your workload is hardly going to get you anywhere with me, much less impress me, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut, your opinions to yourself, and do as I say."

Swallowing his anger and frustration, Osiris nodded stately.

"As there are no classes over holiday, I suggest that you learn the remainder of the years work for class. I daresay for next year as well, though I doubt that you can possibly discipline yourself enough to do it."

The Professor curled his lip with distaste and glared at Osiris before he left his apprentice standing in the room by himself.

Osiris stared after him, his shoulders slumping as his body relaxed. He very often had pains all over his body from standing around Professor Snape all day, there was no way he could relax around him, and he found himself always standing at attention.

He pulled his jeans up by the belt loops before hooking his thumbs in them. Then he kicked the wall with his white sneakers. All of this simply because he had asked the man if something was the matter.


	19. Christmas Holiday

Christmas Holiday

As Professor Snape walked in, Osiris looked up from his position squatting on the floor examining large jars of ingredients. He turned his gaze back downward and continued looking for signs of rot. The Professor always seemed to enjoy inspecting him as he worked or at least he did so with some frequency.

"I didn't see you in the Great Hall," the man observed.

Osiris didn't lose step as he answered, "That's because I wasn't there… Professor."

"That much was quite obvious, Mr. Silver, check your sarcasm," he said, putting his hand on the doorframe.

Drawing back from half under a shelf, Osiris swiped his dusty hands across his pants and stood up. They had been on shakey ground since the Lavender incident.

"Is there something else you needed me to do, sir?" He said, not allowing the remainder of his cognition to show although he said in his head, "Or are you that concerned by my eating habits?"

"Not at the precise moment. I am simply ensuring that you are doing what you are supposed to be doing."

Osiris frowned and his lips pursed slightly and he had to censor himself before he said, "Yes, sir," and turned back to the shelf.

But that was hardly hidden from the Professor, who seemed to be in a particular mood to see how far he could push Osiris.

"Something more you wanted to say, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris turned back around and was sorely tempted to say more than "no, sir," which is what he chose to say.

"I can easily see your aggitation and since you won't say anything I will be forced to speculate."

Shaking his head slightly, Osiris responded in as tame a tone as he could manage, "I was going to say that I realize that I deserve this for disregarding you and breaking my restriction. However, that doesn't mean you need to stick it in my face, Professor."

"Perhaps you should not have asked me to apprentice you if you were so averse to my methods and my personality," the man said, in a strangely steady voice.

Osiris bristled, "You say that so often that it makes me wonder if you really want me as an apprentice."

"I ask myself that same question daily, Mr. Silver."

"And what do you answer yourself, sir?" He said, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't," he replied.

Osiris scowled.

"However, I do very often lament my decision due to my prior knowledge that you are incredibly impulsive. Were it not for that, Mr. Silver, I would have no problem with you whatsoever. You are intelligent, diligent, intuitive, and observant. It just angers me to see your lack of control cloud those things and it will effectively keep you from progressing up to your capabilities."

Osiris's mouth opened just a little as his eyebrow raised.

"You really think that, sir?"

"Do I look like a fool, Mr. Silver, because only a fool would apprentice someone like you if you did not have any potential or redeeming qualities."

"I suppose not, Professor."

"When you are finished with this, you will come to my office. I need to establish some rules for when we leave the school," he said, turning around and walking back out of the small room.

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Osiris swallowed and did his best to correct what he had been doing wrong. This was the first time Professor Snape was critically watching him brew a potion and it made him feel distinctly at ease.

"Why do you chronically wait too long to add ingredients, Mr. Silver? Do you second-guess yourself that much? If you wait until you are positively certain, you have waited too long. Trust your first judgment."

"Yes, sir," he answered, trying his best to concentrate and take in what he was being told.

They were one week into holiday and Osiris was quite certain that his brain could not hold very much more. He had been working on memorizing all of the remaining sixth year potions. It was difficult, but everything surrounding Professor Snape was difficult. He looked back at the man briefly to see his expression.

A sharp intake of breath made Osiris turn his head back to his work.

"And for the third time, look at your work, not at me. At your level you should be able to block out any distraction. You should not even be aware of my presence."

Osiris took at deep breath, "I guess I'm just nervous, Professor."

"Nervous? Do you not know what you are doing?"

"No, I know perfectly well."

The man lifted his eyebrow as he started at the profile of Osiris' face, "Then feeling nervous is a stupid thing, is it not?"

"Yes, sir," he said, adding leech juice.

He walked around so that he could see the front of Osiris' face.

"You are here to learn, Mr. Silver, not to affirm a sense of perfection, and as such you should expect to make mistakes. Technical mistakes."

Osiris' face was hard with concentration.

"Relax, Mr. Silver, for Merlin's sake. You are making yourself perform worse. Take a deep breath and just do what you do. I'm not going to get angry unless you disregard my instruction…or if you don't relax."

By the time Osiris was finished, he was covered in sweat. He had managed to relax somewhat, but not completely. It was so difficult with Professor Snape looming about him.

As he was looming in front of him right now.

"You do have a natural talent. We will simply need to fine tune it much more and that will come with experience. Your confidence in yourself will grow. You must learn to let things go, especially your feelings, and not analyze things. You cannot act in the present if you are consumed with the past and the future."

Osiris nodded, he had expected a worse critique, but this was very mild for the Professor.

"By the looks of you, I'd say you could use a shower and a break to collect yourself."

Osiris took the opportunity and hastily left the lab.

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As Osiris was walking down the stairs, feeling refreshed after a shower, he heard a loud series of tones reverberate throughout the estate. He stopped where he was completely perplexed and unsure if he should be concerned.

"Mr. Silver, answer the door and see what they want while I clean up. I'll be there shortly," the professor's voice sounded next, through a sonorus charm.

Osiris bounded down the rest of the stairs and crossed to the door. He raised his wand and undid the wards.

When he opened the door, the first thing he registered about the man standing there was his silvery-blonde hair.

"Ah, you must be Severus' apprentice," the man said, condescendingly.

Osiris frowned slightly, "Yes, sir." He opened the door and let the man in the rest of the way.

They stood looking at each other for a moment, during which Osiris was sure the man was waiting to see if he would make the first move to introduce himself. As if he was raised a complete idiot. He knew that the person of higher stature had to offer an introduction or a handshake first.

"Lucius Malfoy," the man said finally, offering his hand.

"Osiris Silver," he replied, shaking the man's hand.

The moment his hand made contact, Osiris knew enough. There were reasons why the person of higher stature had to offer the handshake and that reason was that it was a very quick and easy way to sense another wizard's power. If one knew how.

By the way the older man dropped the condescension, Osiris guessed that Lucius Malfoy knew as well.

"Draco has told me about you of course. He seems to think you are some sort of a mudblood, despite what Severus has told him."

"And what about you, sir?" He asked, treading lightly but wanting to know what Mr. Malfoy had sensed.

"I can tell for myself that you are not, I need not trust anyone's word."

Osiris nodded.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Malfoy, the Professor is finishing up something."

The man stared down at him, which was difficult considering that Osiris was about the same height.

"No."

"Can I show you to the library so you can wait, sir."

Malfoy regarded him carefully. He disliked this Osiris Silver because it was his obligation to feel so as Draco's father. His better sense told him that his son was an arrogant idiot who had failed to notice a potentially powerful ally. That made him angry.

"That would be good," Malfoy answered, in response to the invitation to the library.

When Malfoy sat down, Osiris turned to leave, but Malfoy said, "Indulge me a moment."

Osiris turned back around to him, doing his very best to feign politeness, "yes, sir." _Your son is an ass! _

"Draco said that you did not try out for quidditch, do you not play?"

"I've played, but it is not my sport, sir."

"Why not?"

"There are much more useful things for me to invest my time and energy in, sir."

Malfoy knew that he wasn't going to get passed this cryptic statement so he plowed on to the heart of the matter.

"I supply the Slytherin team with the latest racing brooms, a man of my influence is expected to make certain contributions to worthy causes. I would not want to see my former house dishonored, or my son for that matter, so I take certain measures to make sure that does not happen. It is the least I can do."

It took all of Osiris' will to keep himself from showing his anger at this not so carefully covered threat.

Professor Snape chose the perfect moment to stride in, "Lucius, you should have flooed first. I would not have been otherwise occupied."

"No bother, your apprentice kept me entertained."

The Professor turned a dark eye onto Osiris and Osiris clearly read a warning there.

"I see no need for further entertainment, Mr. Silver." He paused and gave him another harsh look, that Osiris knew was something more. "You may go finish preparing ingredients in the lab."

The meaning of the looks clicked in Osiris' mind as he remembered a discussion the Professor had with him before holiday about people visiting.

It perplexed him, but he understood.

"Yes, master," he said, before he turned and left, knowing fully well that there were no ingredients to prepare in the lab.

Osiris had barely left before Lucius said, "I thought you had no intentions of ever taking an apprentice, Severus."

Severus scowled and sat down in the chair across from the other man, "I changed my mind, Lucius."

"You generally aren't that fickle, what was so striking about this boy?"

"There is nothing so special about the boy other than the fact that he is competent and hardworking. If you must know, it is getting increasingly difficult to accomplish all the tedious tasks of being the Hogwarts Potions Master while also serving our Master, and His needs. This was the easiest way to gain a servant to do the more tedious work."

Lucius laughed, but it almost sounded fake. "You know that I know you better than that. You are a misanthrope if ever I have met one and you would not spend any time around anybody else in order to free up a few spare hours in the day."

"Believe what you wish, Lucius, I have given you my reasons. Now what do you want?"

"To the point…I just dropped by to suggest that you might not want to head back to the school before the entire holiday is over. Things will be easier for you without that old fool watching you."

"There will be a meeting?"

"Yes."

"Is there a date yet?"

"No, but my estimate is soon."

"I must return by that Sunday night."

"It will be before then, and it promises to be very interesting."

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If you want more, review, review, because now that summer is here I can write as much as I feel the need to. ;-)


	20. Tangled Past, New Appreciations

Chapter 20

Tangled Past, New Appreciations

Professor Snape walked back into his lab brooding and sour after Malfoy left, and the first thing that he saw made him snort with slight amusement.

Osiris had been standing with his back to the door, apparently preparing ingredients, and when he turned around as the Professor walked in the door he was cutting an apple with a parring knife. A slice of which he promptly stuck into his mouth.

After the man recovered from his initial reaction to his apprentice's strange sense of humor, he scowled and shook his head.

Osiris anticipated what the man was upset about and pointed to the table with the knife while he swallowed the apple in his mouth.

"I heard you coming, sir, and I clearly knew that it was you and just you. But I was prepared in case you felt the need to bring Mr. Malfoy down here," he said, indicating some ingredients that were sliced up on the table with the knife again.

The man sneered at him, in return. Osiris might have gotten an initial reaction but he wasn't getting any more than that, so he changed the subject.

"I did not know that you were congenial with the Malfoy family, sir."

This got a slight reaction from the Professor as the man said, "Your use of the past tense in this case is quite appropriate. I was close with Mr. Malfoy at one time."

Osiris frowned, "It did not seem that way."

"This was purely a business meeting, Mr. Silver, nothing more. Lucius Malfoy is no longer the man he once was, just as plainly as I am no longer the man I once was. He is incapable of being a friend, and my position prevents me from being one."

"Business, Mr. Malfoy doesn't have anything to do with Potions does he?"

"No he does not."

Leaning his thighs against the table and putting his empty hand down on top of it, Osiris asked, "Why would you want me to call you 'master' in front of him then, sir?"

The Professor turned around quickly, "We will not speak of this further."

"Sir, I don't understand-."

Osiris flinched as the man grabbed him by the upper arm and jerked him forward. His shoulders pulled up protectively as the man thrust his finger into his face, almost touching his nose, "Osiris, I said drop it."

Osiris didn't answer, he was so completely shocked. The use of his given name had almost the opposite effect that it would have had on a normal person. The Professor never called him by his given name.

Severus stared at Osiris' face with such anger until the uncomfortable silence that followed. During that silence the previous thirty seconds replayed through his mind and then he looked at Osiris' face again. He looked into his eyes and instantly knew that he had made a mistake when the statement that Osiris was going to make was made clear to him: "Sir, I don't understand what I said wrong."

He released Osiris' arm and closed his eyes before backing up a few steps. He had come within a hair's length of hitting his apprentice for no good reason and that irked him. Everytime the boy flinched at him it reminded him of what must be in Osiris' past. His Rite of Passage, while likely painful, was not likely to have caused him to have the flinch, because Osiris flinched in strange situations. Somebody in his apprentice's past had beat him regularly, probably for no reason. Not that Osiris was going to be in a hurry to tell him about it, but that was as much his fault as it was Osiris' secrecy.

He was not the type of man whose personality invited such disclosures, although he wanted to know and knew that he could not ask.

Osiris put his arm down a few seconds after the man had dropped it, not even feeling it throb, as he stared at the Professor unblinkingly.

"Sir, I was out of line-."

But he stopped when the man put his hand up.

Another uncomfortable silence followed, during which Osiris was frozen in the pose he had been when he stopped speaking, except for the fact that his brow was furrowing now. He had no idea whether the man was angry or what was wrong.

"No, you were not. However, I should not take my anger about my situation out on you, Mr. Silver."

Osiris frowned and then unfroze himself and relaxed. Perhaps this 'situation', whatever it was, was the reason that the Professor had such stringent rules for him. Perhaps this situation was the reason why Osiris needed to curb his impulsivity. He wasn't sure what to say. Whatever it was it was significant enough for the Professor to cross an arm over his chest and put his other hand up to pinch his nose and lean against the table behind him looking much more like a normal man than the stoical Potions Master that he was. That statement had even bordered on an apology.

Osiris leaned up against the table next to him, although there was a few feet separating them.

"Professor, you didn't need to say that. And besides that, I shouldn't have made light of things a few minutes ago. And I shouldn't have said _anything_ either, because I made you more angry."

The man put his hand down, "There was nothing wrong with what you said, Mr. Silver, and that is the problem. I should not have allowed myself to get angry. This has nothing to do with you."

Turning to face him, Osiris shrugged a bit before he said, "I have no clue what this is about, sir, but if it gets you this aggitated… then I want you to know that I think I understand why it is so important for me to do as you say and not fail to show you the proper respect, even if you cannot tell me any particulars. It doesn't matter, that's enough."

The Professor turned his head to the side and looked down at his apprentice. Osiris could have no real idea the magnitude of what he had just said, because he did not know what the situation was and how dangerous it was. It was dangerous for Severus but he entered into it voluntarily. It was dangerous for Osiris because of his position to Severus and should something happen, it could be the death of them both.

Severus could not come up with something appropriate to say to him, he was not good at saying things that were personally meaningful, but he had the sense to know that Mr. Silver had understood that for a long time.

"Well, Mr. Silver, you did well with Malfoy. He did not have anything to say about you, and if he had found you arrogant or ill-mannered he would have found cause to say so."

The corner of Osiris' lip went up slightly, he nodded.

The Professor put his hand behind Osiris' shoulder and pushed him away from the table as he stood from his leaning position, "There is more work for you to start on. I trust you can work without me on this, while I seek something for my headache upstairs."

The man took his hand away.

"Something new, sir," he asked, looking back at him.

"Yes, Mr. Silver, I want you to work on what I told you this morning when I was watching you. On a potion you are not as familiar with, perhaps you are less likely to second-guess yourself. Watch the reaction, do what you think you should. We shall see how it turns out."

"Yes, sir."

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When Professor Snape came back down fifteen minutes later, he found Osiris working intently on the potion he had assigned him. The boy had not even noticed his arrival, which was exactly what the Professor was hoping for. He wanted to see his apprentice brew a complicated potion that he was not familiar with, without feeling like he was going to be critiqued. This way, the Professor would know his true abilities, not just his abilities when he was nervous.

He stood five feet away from Osiris, behind him but slightly to the left so that he could see what Osiris was doing.

There was much more ease and confidence when he was alone. He noticed the way the boy's frown muscles above his eyes contracted as well as his cheek muscles pulling up, which made his eyes look much smaller. You could not see any white in them. The Professor noticed that his body did not move, except for his arms, hands, and head. He frowned, his arms were moving in much too limited a fashion, especially for how long they were. He simply was not bending his elbows at all, relying too much on wrist and arms movement. Not only was that much more difficult and energy-consuming, but it did not allow you to precisely add ingredients, especially powdered ones.

The Professor crossed his arms over his chest and continued watching. From what he could tell, his apprentice's timing was naturally much better. He was not waiting too long to add ingredients.

What was more important, it was very clear that Osiris was so focused that he definitely didn't notice the Professor's presence, even though he was creaping up closer to get a better look.

Half an hour later, Osiris turned the burner off and stepped back to allow the potion to cool.

He turned around to get a jar and turned right into the Professor, startling.

His master grabbed him by the shoulders before he jumped backwards in surprise, right into his cauldron, then moved him to the side.

"Merlin, sir, don't sneak up on me like that!" he exclaimed.

Smirking the man answered, "I did not sneak up on you, Mr. Silver, I've been here nearly since you started that potion."

Osiris stared, "What?" He said, very stupidly.

"You were much too nervous earlier, when you knew I was here, for me to glean any valuable information from it. This was much more enlightening."

"It was, sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Silver, I've noticed that you have much more ease when I am not around, you do not wait too long to add ingredients, although I still believe you wait a second or two more than is adviseable. You also need to pay more heed to how long the time is between when you start adding and when you stop adding, and how that impacts your potion."

"Yes, sir."

The Professor moved forward to look into the cauldron.

"Mr. Silver, we aren't going to use this potion, so let me illustrate something for you. Step up here."

Osiris moved forward.

The man started stirring the potion, "Do you notice anything about what I am doing."

He imitated the way Osiris had been stirring, using just his arms and not bending his elbows at all. It was a very awkward movement indeed.

After staring for a few moments, Osiris said, "Well, sir, you look uncomfortable. Stiff?"

The Professor stopped and looked at him, "Mr. Silver, this is a slight exaggeration of how you stir. You use your whole arm entirely too much. You are no longer a ten-year-old child that needs to use his whole arm to reach all the way around, you are seventeen and nearly six-feet tall. Using your entire arm not only restricts the fluidity of your movement, but it also will tire you out, which will make a great deal of difference when you are making a potion with a 10 hour preparation time."

Osiris cringed slightly, "Yes, sir."

"You must practice using your wrists and your elbows more in all your movements. You also need to concentrate as much on quality of movement when adding ingredients as much as quantity on the ingredient you are adding. You concentrate very much on quantity and how your potion reacts. However, how you add it plays a role in the quality of your potion, as you know."

"Yes, sir," he said. " I try."

The man turned back to the cauldron again, "This is a more effective method for adding a powdered ingredient that needs to be dispersed as you stir. You correctly, stir from the center to the outside. You should add the ingredient in small amounts to the potion in the area right in front of where you stir. It is much more precise."

He nodded.

The Professor turned his back to the cauldron and faced Osiris, "This potion was well beyond NEWT level, Mr. Silver, and you made this completely viable mind strengthening potion. One that was developed to help aurors fight off possible Imperious Curses. It acts on the synapses in the brain."

He didn't know what to say to the Professor. That was compliment, a very veiled compliment, but probably the first real compliment that the man had ever made to him. He was only slightly better at making meaningful statements than the Professor was.

For a few moments Osiris just stood there, and then he said, "Thanks for watching me, Professor, and for the criticisms. Your advise is invaluable… to think that I never realized when my arms got this long," he added, smirking slightly.

The Professor scoffed at the sarcasm, though it was quite true, and replied, "Mr. Silver, I am here to teach you. The way I see it, you can be excellent brewer or you can be an impeccable brewer. You could pass the tests and eventually become a Master either way. Your ability to be an impeccable Potion's Master is not here," he said, touching Osiris' forehead, "it is here," he added, touching Osiris' solar plexus.

Osiris frowned, "My ability to be an impeccable Potion's Master is in my xiphisternal junction?"

The man closed his eyes in immense frustration at Osiris' need to make that comment. The familiar sarcasm, although slightly amusing, was something which he was not used to, and he was not sure whether he liked it or not. It was definitely part of Osiris' personality. That he was surely beginning to see.

"Sorry, sir," Osiris replied, feeling a bit like he might be acting too familiar, "My magical core, I understand."

All druids believed that the solar plexus, a nerve center beneath the xiphisternal junction, was the most important magical node in the body, at least symbolically.

The Professor exhaled, "That is where your natural ability comes from, Mr. Silver, it was a gift that you were born with. You do move in a way that others don't, you see things that others don't. You want to see those things. You pour your magical energy into your potion, and that is what will one day make you impeccable if you follow my instruction. The potion of a Master that can do that will always be infinitely more potent and powerful and adaptable."

"And you will show me how to do that… You can teach me how to do that because that is what you can do, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Silver, but I can only show you up to a point. I can guide you, but you will eventually have to learn to do it on your own, improve it in your own way, if you can. Our magic is different, our power different. The only advantage I can see is that our similarity is likely to be higher as we are both druids. But it will not be easy. This is why there are so few true masters."

Osiris nodded slightly, his face looking very thoughtful. This last week had been the most enlightening of all his time with the Professor. Outside of the school, things were slightly different, and he wasn't sure if it was because they had more time to work on things more in detail or something else.

It seemed to Osiris that the Professor was much more willing to teach him and help him in a manner that seemed much less selfish, much less about the Professor wanting things for himself.

Professor Snape cleared his throat, no longer feeling like he wanted the uncomfortable silence to continue.

His apprentice looked up at him with those changing hazel eyes, his eyebrows pulled together slightly, "I really appreciate your time and your guidance, sir."

The Professor's lips pulled together in a thin line before he frowned and said, "Do not tell me Mr. Silver, show me. Your behavior at Hogwarts has been completely inconsistent, and I do not enjoy dealing with that sort of childishness. If you behaved there, the way you have been here, perhaps you would begin to notice more of what you are getting out of this apprenticeship and less of what you have to put into it."

Osiris bit his lip, "I deserved that, didn't I, sir?" he muttered, basically about his statement being rebuffed.

"Yes, you did. Perhaps you will realize it now. You natural ability needs to be matched by an immense level of control over yourself, or you will gain nothing. Everything worth doing is difficult, Mr. Silver, if you are going to put all of yourself into it, which is what I told you that you have to do to be worth my time. Up until now you have been acting like a very selfish child. Change that and I will know how much you appreciate my instruction."

A/N

SS- Thanks for the review. I am glad that you enjoy the story. What keeps you reading? What do you enjoy so much? As you can tell, the new chapter was soon. The next one will be too if I get timely reviews. ;-)

Person – What was good about that last chapter? I am trying to update more. I just had 3 deaths in the family, it screwed me up for a bit. I should update AT THE LEAST, once a week, probably more for awhile.

Fcuking Cathy (Ch18) – I'm glad you missed it so much! Sorry it took me awhile to update, hope you are still reading.

Duj (ch18) – Yes, you've caught it right on the ball when you say that Osiris is dopey not to realize how badly he is letting snape down and how lazy he is being. He has good intentions, he can be mature, but most of the time he just isn't and he's very immature. Hopefully in the last chapter and this chapter, you've noticed that changing a little bit. Osiris has been removed from temptation, but it's still a step. In the next few changes he will be growing up a lot. Which also addressed your comment from ch 17 about restraining yourself being part of growing up. Your reviews are always really great because ethey let me know what you like a nd don't like. THANKS!

Dave (ch 14)– Looloo? Love it. U R so quirky… Anyhow what did you think about the entire Lavender things with Osiris being caught redhanded by Snape (Ch 17 or 18)? I can't wait to hear what you have to say about these two new chapters too (19 and 20). Let me know.

Silver to Crimson (18) – You said that you really REALLy like the relationship in this chapter… what did you like about it? This will help me keep my Osiris and Snape interactions this way.

Interested Reader (18) – Glad you like the suspense, there will be much much much more in the next few chappies after this one. Tell me what you think is coming?

Elalien (18)- What is the surprise you think is lurking in the background? What do you like about how the story is developing, since that was your comment? ;-) Always love your reviews, they tell me what you like and don't like. THANKS

Morena Evensong (17) – WOW that was a great review! You told me what you like about it, n ot just that you like it. That's so helpful you cannot believe. You said that you were curious about what Lupin said about Dumbledore knowing about the Dart Arts stuff and whether or not Ddore knows osiris is a druid. He does not know that osiris is a druid, but he does know that osiris came from a school that teaches dark arts.

Silvert to Crimson (17) – Great comment anout how you like that I can turn severus into a likeable person and still put abusive tendencies into his character. Many people have asked if Severus is ever going to hit osiris. The answer to that is yes he will eventually hit osiris and it will be necessary, but he will not want to. However, at a much later date, he will actually hit Osiris and really mean it, which is a whole nother ball game.

LINDEN (ch 17) – I MISS U GIRL! Where are you! Hee hee, you said that you hope that Sev will hit osiris at some point in time and yes he most definitely will, and he most definitely will do worse than that. Thanks for the crit that I write in there too much that snape is beginning to understand osiris, la la la. I have started to try showing that instead of saying that. I loved your comment about you likeing it when Sev grabs Osiris' arm and the tension being goood. That action by snape is one of my favorites. It shows how close he can come to losing control and how he manages to bring himself back. It also shows how badly he sometimes does just want to break down and hit osiris, because he sometimes does feel that he deserves it. Do you have any idea why he always keeps himself from doing it? There is a very good reason. I sort of hinted at it in this chappie?

Ssss (ch 15) – It's the best HP fanfic you ever read! DAMN, THANKS!

Ss (ch 15) – Other people have guessed that he is Sirius or Regulus Black's son, even Voldemort's son. Did you think of that?

Emma (15) – Hope you are still reading. Haven't heard from you in a few chapters.

Maggie (14) – Hope you are still reading, haven't heard from you in a few chapters. I am glad that you like the relationship that Osiris and Snape have. Sage will start when I finish Osiris. It is hard to write them at the same time. I don't want them to start to become similar.

Guilty indulgences (14) – Thanks for saying that this story is original and that you like my character. There is a lot more to be divulged. Your review was very awesome, very helpful. I love when people write what they like, or what they don't like so much. Hope you are still reading, I have't heard from you in awhile. I have an email group that I send things out to periodically about the story, if you would like me to add you, leave me your permission of your email addy in your next review.

SC – Glad you like my snape. Hope you are still reading.

Lady Meriadoc – Snape being nice is a change, but if you notice he isn't necessarily nice, but more tolerant than nice. ;-) I hope you like the relationship between sev and osiris and how it is shaping out. I hope you are still reading, I haven't heard from you in awhile.

Oihane – Haven't heard from you in awhile., I hope youa re still reading and enjoying the story.

Cc – Thanks for your wishes about my life, that was so nice., Things are looking much better. I hope you are still reading and likeing the story. Can't wait to hear from you.

Emma20 – You are right when you said that you are not sure that Osiris means as little to snape as snape seems to want to make Osiris think. That eventually comes out in a big way sometime soon. I hope that you are still reading and enjoying the story. I hope to hear from you soon.

M – thanks about your sympathies for my sister. That means a lot to me. It was very kind. ;-) Hope to hear from you soon.

BabyGooGoo2 – Glad you like my story and ,my characters. Thanks for yyour wishes about my sister, that was very nice of you. Hope to hear from you soon.

Diaphanous – Thanks for your well wishes about my sister and stuff that was so nice, All of you guys were really supportive through that. I really appreciated the way tha tyou said that my characterizations of an angsty teenage wizard is amazing in both my stories. That was one of my very best and favorite reviews. I hope to hear from you soon!

MISTY – I miss you girl! Where have you gone off too? I never see you online! And your mistycherry addy no longer works. Get me a new one or I think I may still have your other one. I hope to hear from you soon.

VD – how I miss you so!


	21. Consequences

Chapter 21

Consequences

Professor Snape often had a difficult time mastering sleep, and it wasn't from lack of need, it was from his inability to quell a restless mind.

Knowing that there was to be a meeting always prevented him from finding sleep and this was no different an occasion.

"If Lucius expects this to be interesting, that means that he foresees blood will be shed," he thought to himself.

His black eyes stared at the amber liquid as he swirled the firewhiskey around in his glass.

It was not uncommon for certain members to be aware of meetings before the fold was called and this was especially true of Severus. The Dark Lord found a way of alerting him so that he would be able to make a discrete escape from the castle. While the Dark Lord knew that the fool Dumbledore trusted Snape, he did not believe it necessary for Dumbledore to know how many times Snape was actually called.

Severus found it quite amusing in its own sick way. The Dark Lord thought he was the most intelligent of servitors, because he had been the only one to infultrate Dumbledore's trust and keep it. Of course, the Dark Lord knew that sacrifices had to be made for Snape to keep that trust and be useful. The opposite was also true for Dumbledore about Snape's usefulness as a spy for the order. He was a pawn. Albeit a very powerful pawn, but a pawn none the less.

"All started to protect the one thing that was almost instantaneously torn away from me," he thought, sourly. "Now for my own private revenge," he thought, dually.

It was empty, of course, because that revenge could not bring back the wife and child that the Dark Lord had murdered. No, it would forever remain that way, empty.

"Just like the dementors," he thought with an ascerbic mental laugh.

He downed the firewhiskey is one quick motion and the glass shattered into the fireplace, a most satisfying sound.

Staring at the fire, an odd thought passed through his mind, not very coherently, but it did surface. Something likening the dementors being found it groups to tormented people being found in groups. Although there was nothing there to say, especially in the case of the dementors, there must be some strange presence that draws them.

He scoffed, "Strange notion," as the thought fluttered away. His mind wandered back to the events of the day which caused a dark scowl to cross his face.

His bitter mood had been invariably taken out on Mr. Silver, although, to be true the boy deserved most of it.

Shaking his head, he recalled several things he had yelled that day, most in a tight succession:

"Mr. Silver, for Merlin's sake, elbows! You will certainly never become a Master if you don't follow my instruction."

"Fluidity of movement, Mr. Silver, if I have to tell you once more!"

At this point he distinctly remembered having visions of pulling the stirring utensil out of the boy's hand and beating him over the head with it he was so incensed. Was it so difficult to use your wrists and elbows when stirring?

Then…

"Mr. Silver, you will stir that potion over and over again until you do it right! If it takes hours, I refuse to watch you stir a cauldron like a small ten year old boy! I refuse to teach you anything further until you correct your technique."

Hours and many harsh comments later…

"You are dismissed, and if I ever see you stir a potion like that again you will be stirring the thickest brew I can concoct for 24 hours straight!"

Coming back out of the recollection, he pinched the bridge of his nose in aggitation. It had been a trying day and promised to be a trying night. Classes started up again in 36 hours and his Dark Mark had not yet burned black. It would soon…

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It was a familiar dank, musty smell that cut through his nostrils in the cold air. He quickly glanced around himself at the others. Black robes of over fifty men, and perhaps some women like Bella, and he knew that the Dark Lord had called all of his Death Eaters.

Nobody spoke, at least nobody spoke who was closest to him in the circle and behind. No one in the Dark Lord's inner circle would ever speak, because they were well aware of the consequences.

His sharp, black eyes focused forward to the middle of the circle where the Dark Lord was already talking to somebody. He scanned the circle for the missing spots…

Lucius. The Dark Lord was speaking to Malfoy.

He would be soon, perhaps next, to give his report.

However, that did not happen.

The red eyes of the Dark Lord found him as he looked away from Lucius, who was still speaking to his Master.

The muscles in his torso tightened, his jaw set tightly. His eyes didn't leave the two figures talking.

In a moment, Lucius was sent away with a backward wave of the Dark Lord's hand, as he was still staring the other direction at Severus.

Taking a step forward, the Dark Lord said in his hissing voice, "Lucius had something quite interesting to report, Severus."

Severus did not bother to respond, there was no need.

"Come forward, Severus."

He stepped out of his place and stopped a few feet from the Dark Lord, offering a substantial, but curt, bow.

Severus didn't move as the inhuman form circled him, calculating in a way. And Severus knew why it was that Lucius had said that it would be interesting. It would be his blood that would be shed. His blood would be shed because Lucius had seen it as his place to inform the Dark Lord that the Potions Master, who had sworn never to take an apprentice, had indeed taken on an apprentice.

It would be too late now to say anything, it would appear to be guilty in manner, so he remained silent, waiting for the Dark Lord to make his accusation.

"One of my most useful Death Eaters," he began, tapping his fingers together. "Your skill is unmatched, my Potions Master. Tell me, Severus, why have you not seen fit to tell me that you have taken an apprentice?"

The Dark Lord stopped in front of him, his red eyes narrowing, sharp breaths coming from his slit-like nose.

"I did not find it consequential, my lord," he answered, bowing his head. He knew he would not get by unscathed, but appearing calm was the key to appeasing the Dark Lord's razor temper and getting by with a less severe punishment.

"You did not find it consequential," the man yelled, pulling out his wand. He put it up against Severus' chest.

Severus did not move or flinch.

"_Crucio!"_

Severus' lip twitched with pain yearning to be released, it curled to reveal his clenched teeth. His hands balled up into fists. Moments later his arms pulled in towards his chest and stomach.

The snake-like man released the curse with an amused laugh, followed by minutes of silence.

"You, who had sworn that no one was worth your time to apprentice, who had no desire to have an apprentice, have finally found someone worthy of apprenticing and did not see fit to tell your Master?"

Severus evenly said, "Perhaps I was in error."

"_Crucio!" _he hissed once more, angrily.

Two long minutes later, it was over. Severus took a breath through his nose, and licked the blood off his lips.

The Dark Lord stood next to him, his face close, "You always were a defiant one, Severus, a strong one. You never scream." He paused, "Is this boy you apprenticed of pure blood?"

Scoffing, Severus said, "Of course, my lord."

"What is his name?"

"Silver, Osiris Silver." He said, thinking that he must be careful with what he chose to say if he was to keep his apprentice out of this.

"Silver?" He hissed, the question he was asking quite obvious to Severus.

"Illegitimate perhaps," he answered, "An unfavored union. Disowned. It is not known. But, a pureblood none the less. He went to Scyon Academy."

"And the purity tests, how many generations?"

Severus growled, "More than Malfoy," chancing a dark glare at the man.

"Interesting, my servant, and is he worthy of your tutelage?"

"No, but he will be."

"No? He must have substantial talent for you to apprentice him."

"He is headstrong, but talented."

The Dark Lord nodded in understanding, "Requires a strong hand."

"Yes, my lord," he answered, his face blank.

"And is he sympathetic?"

Severus scowled, "A delicate matter, master, as I have not wanted to raise suspicions. Especially right under that Old Fool's nose. The boy is neutral as I can tell. He does not care for muggles, nor does he care for the purebloods who persecuted him because he does not know his lineage."

"Neutral!" he hissed.

Bowing his head slightly, "It is a matter I am seeing to, master."

"_Crucio!"_

Severus growled inwardly after the moments passed and his limbs began shaking. He fell onto one knee on the ground, one hand bracing him. He pulled his chin down to his chest as the pain nearly became unbearable. His breathing became labored and blood came up as he exhaled and inhaled fast and forcefully.

When it lifted, Severus brought a black gloved hand to his lips and wiped his face. Slowly, and unsteadily, he stood back up.

The Dark Lord circled him once more.

Severus was grateful that he could not see the sweat that was dribbling down his back.

"I cannot pass up the opportunity to have another skilled at potions, Severus. You will bring this boy to me. Perhaps I will convince him. You will bring this boy to me by whatever means necessary or it will be your death."

"Yes, my lord," he answered.

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Osiris woke early, as was his custom, and meditated as he had been taught during his Rite of Passage.

Around 6:30 am, he wandered down the stairs, pushing the sleeves up on his shirt. Strangely, Professor Snape didn't seem to be awake yet.

Thinking that perhaps the man was already awake and working in the lab, he made his way down there. He smelled nothing being brewed before he even opened the door. Feeling something was a bit odd, he walked further into the room and looked around to see if the Professor had worked on anything the night before after he had gone to sleep.

There was a piece of parchment on the table.

_Mr. Silver,_

_I shall be gone on business. Should I not return by early Monday morning, return to Hogwarts without me and tell the headmaster that I have gone. Continue working on testing those ingredients for the antidote and provide detailed notes of what occurred. I expect samples when I return. _

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Severus woke up with the taste of blood and grass in his mouth. He rolled over onto his back and exhaled suddenly as fresh waves of pain crashed through his body. He coughed and the blood was salty in his mouth. His stomach wrenched, but he held it.

The moon was already on its way down in the sky, telling him that it was very late Sunday night, or early Monday morning, depending upon how he looked at it.

He scoffed at his own idiocy. It didn't matter.

Mentally, he took inventory of his situation. He'd been in worse, much worse. Blood, there was a good amount of blood. Nothing felt as if it was still bleeding. A good sign.

"Bloody hell," he said out loud to no one. He'd be hard pressed to apparate in this condition.

Frowning, he tried to remember how he had gotten to this state. The Dark Lord must have carried on after he had passed out with many curses.

He should have anticipated this, expected this. Anything which could be construed as hiding something was an offense easily punishable by death. The Dark Lord was naturally always suspicious about him because of his position supposedly spying on Dumbledore. He needn't feed that suspicion any more.

He was useful, but he wasn't useful enough to be worth the risk if the Dark Lord got any inkling that Severus wasn't loyal.

Severus had seen it in those red eyes. There was doubt.

He should never have apprenticed the boy. It could turn out to be a fatal mistake. He could not ask him to do this. He would not ask him to do this.

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Osiris was in the library off the main foyer, pretending, even to himself, that he was reading a book. It was 3:30 in the morning and the Professor had not yet returned. He was waiting, but reluctant to admit it to himself.

Something bothered him. Lucius Malfoy. Business. The situation his Professor kept referring to. A good reason for why he had to obey immediately. How he was gone, in the middle of the night. It was strange.

The second he heard the door handle, Osiris was up and out of his seat, running out of the library. Not caring if he looked absolutely ridiculous.

He made it to the foyer in time to see Professor Snape collapse like a dead weight the second he made it through the door.

Not breaking his speed, Osiris kept running forward, until he dropped onto his knees. He skidded to a stop at the Professor's side.

He turned the man over onto his back carefully, pulling back slightly at the sight of the blood.

"Sir!"

Taking a deep breath he felt the side of the man's neck. He let the breath out when he felt the thumping against his fingers.

"Professor…Professor Snape," he said shaking him with one hand by the shoulder.

No response.

He touched the man's face with a finger, trying something to wake him.

"Severus…Professor…" he said, trying again.

With one hand he wiped the sweat off his own forehead. With the other he pulled out his wand.

"_Regeneas," _he cast, carefully. Then another healing spell.

He needed help. He turned around as if he was going to get an answer by looking towards the nearest floo.

Suddenly, the Professor grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down by his face.

His voice raspy and weathered, he said, "It is not safe for you here, Mr. Silver." He took a breath. "You must go."

"Sir, I can't leave you here. Not like this. Let me-."

The man shook him by the collar, "No, Mr. Silver, obey me in this." He reached his free hand under the collar of his robe and pulled out a chain with something on it. "Take this. It will allow you to floo directly to the headmaster's office." He took another breath. "He will know what to do."

Osiris nodded and began taking the chain off.

"Rip it, and go. Now." He said.

Osiris looked at his Professor's dark eyes, which were dialated to different sizes, and knew this was serious.

"Yes, sir," he answered.

The man nodded affirmatively and closed his eyes. He had ensured that the boy would go and now he would wait.

Cringing, Osiris yanked and the chain came off in his hand.

With one look backward, he ran to the library to floo out.

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A/N

No more chappies until you all send some reviews. So if you want em, ask for em and tell me what you like/didn't like about the chapter.

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW ( I generally check out your stuff if you review.smile.)

Even tho reviewing was down for 2 days, I've gotten like 5 reviews since I started posting again. This is the third chapter and things are heating up in the fic now so I need to know if you all like it and what you think. Your responses do help me write the next chapters as I try to address certain things. It helps me to know what you want to know and don't want to know.

Oihane – Thanks for all the wishes and for reviewing both new chapters. That was great since reviews were down for two days. I am glad you like Lucius, he will make another appearance soon and interact with Osiris. Perhaps Osiris will get a little revenge…Perhaps…Thanks for likeing my snape so much, that's very important to me…keeping him in character. Sage is not being abandoned but it is too hard to write them at the same time. So… sorry.

Maggie – It must be nice to be out of school! I hate it when things get in the way of my computer time, and my fanfic reading time. Sage won't be abandoned but is on hold while I finish this one. I may do a chapter here and there but no promises.

Silver to Crimson – How about updating your fic, lol? J/K. You sensed plot bunnies? There were plot bunnies. Did you pick up on any specific ones? Thanks for saying tha tmy fic has some depth. That is sometimes hard to find! Maybe I will talk to you on MSN soon.


	22. Secrecy and the Unnatural

Chapter 22

Secrecy and the Unnatural

Osiris' feet hit the stone of Professor Dumbledore's fireplace with a hard thud, showing that he had passed many floo grates to get there. He hastily stepped out and looked around as various gadgets around the room spun and did other strange things.

"Headmaster?" He called, his voice slightly frantic, but also slightly tentative.

"Mr. Silver, what happened," the man said, hastily coming down the steps above his desk looking sleepy but still wearing his robes.

"Sir, I don't know…Professor Snape, he's hurt…He needs your help…He gave me this, said to go, it wasn't safe," he blurted out, holding the chain up, much more indecorously than his usual manner of speaking.

There was no twinkle behind those blue eyes as the man said quiet sternly, "Wait here. No, nevermind, Mr. Silver. I need for you to go to Professor Snape's quarters and find whatever healing potions you feel may be helpful. I would check his cabinets in his quarters as they may well be there. Then wait for me there."

"Yes, sir," he said, turning to go.

Before he turned the doorhandle he heard the man call his phoenix, followed by a loud pop and sizzle. When he looked over his shoulder, the man was gone.

Clutching his wand tightly, in case someone tried to stop him as it was quite late and he was out ofter hours, he ran down the corridors, swung himself around corners, and positively jumped most of the way down staircases.

His chest was searing with pain when he finally made it all the way down into the dungeons into Professor Snape's quarters. He did not realize that he had never been in the man's cabinets in his quarters when he began rifling through them, nor did it strike him as odd that he was doing so. He merely did as he was told, also realizing that he had to depend mostly on his ability to visually decipher what potions were in the bottles as many were not labeled. The man would have no need to label them for himself, he would know what they were.

Three minute later he had an array of potions on the table in the living room, where it was warmest and the light the best, and had his wand out to enlarge the couch, when another large crack and sizzle caused him to turn around.

The headmaster, holding Professor Snape up, let go of Fawkes' tailfeathers as they materialized in a burst of flame in the room.

Dumbledore's first instructions were, "Mr. Silver, three deep breaths you will need to calm down and keep a rational mind about you. No questions, we will deal with that at a later time. Do you understand?"

It was delivered in a stoical manner that Osiris had never imagined the man capable of having.

"Yes, headmaster, I understand," he said, "I gathered everything I could think of," he added, pointing to the table as the headmaster got the Professor on the couch.

Osiris saw his mentor frown slightly from his position laying on the couch, blood crusting along his hairline, "My office, you'll need what's in my office." He said, laboriously.

Osiris frowned, he couldn't get in there.

The man was moving on the couch, both the headmaster and Osiris watching him keenly.

"My wand, Mr. Silver, you'll need my wand," he said, holding it out, "The wards are keyed to it." He took a shallow breath. "A simple Alohamora will work on everything." Another breath. "Bottom drawer of my desk on the left."

Osiris took the object from the man and nodded. It felt strange to take a wand from someone else. It was very rarely done, and Osiris imagined that this was an understatement when applied to Professor Snape.

The wand worked easily for him, even with such a simple spell, which was lucky as wands did not sometimes function properly when not wielded by their owner.

He was only gone a few moments, and when he came back, the headmaster was already doing a variety of healing spells. Given the less grisly look on his Master's face, Osiris guessed that the man had already given him the pain potion he had found.

Osiris placed the bottle in his Professor's outstretched hand and watched him easily down half of the bottle. It was a potion he was not familiar with by the look of it.

Even on the man's black clothing, he could tell there was blood. Osiris could smell it, smell it quite easily. It smelt old. It was so potent, and likely so much, that he could taste it in his mouth. He cringed.

"Severus, we may need Madame Pomphrey," the headmaster said, reluctantly.

Severus scowled, "No." Then took a short breath as a tremor went down his body.

Osiris could feel it. He could feel the Dark Arts. His lips pursed, his jaw set, without conscious effort. This was all so much to take in at once.

"Severus, please, this is quite beyond me," the headmaster said, "I am not a healer, nor a mediwitch."

But the Professor wasn't paying any attention to the headmaster, he was staring quite pointedly at his apprentice. He was studying his face. The Professor knew now that Osiris could sense it as easily as he could by the look on his face, being a druid himself the Professor knew what that look meant. It was an advantage in this sort of a situation that he had not counted on. It was the only way to not get Pomphrey involved, and Osiris' eyes betrayed much more than his face did about what he knew and could do as a druid.

Buried there, just below the surface, he saw that his apprentice knew what he could do, but was more than simply afraid to do it and afraid to be asked. The emotion radiating off the boy was mortification, not necessarily about the state of his master, but of something much more indistinguishable.

Osiris was so within himself he did not notice the man staring at him, until he felt the man legilimencing him slightly. He refocused and saw the man's black eyes on his own. Knowing what was going on, he refocused himself on something else and occluded himself as best as he could. If the man had been stronger, he would have been worried that it wouldn't be enough because it would not have been, but in this state even his meager Occlumency skills would hold up.

"Mr. Silver," he said, his deep voice cracking and low. He motioned him closer with his hand.

Osiris stepped between the headmaster and the Professor and knelt down by the couch so that he could hear him.

"Do you know how to do positive transference?"

His brows tightly knit, Osiris looked back into the man's face, feeling Dumbledore's eyes on his back. Bile rose up in his stomach. The smell of the blood intoxicating and strong.

"Yes, sir," he answered, knowing that he could not lie now.

Transference was considered Dark Arts by most, it displaced magical power, and displacing magical power in any sense was generally unsafe and, depending, unnatural. In this case, the Professor was talking about Osiris displacing his own magical power, positive transference, which was the more acceptable sort.

"Do you know how to direct a spell on top of it," the man asked, narrowing his eyes.

Osiris' lip twitched, he sensed possible danger here, the possibility of divulging too much, of letting too much out about himself. Things which could be added up to spell danger much worse than being a druid. The Professor had already added that up, in the future it might be just as easily to add the new knowledge together. There was nothing in this world that Osiris was more afraid of.

Scowling deeply, the man warned, "Osiris, now is not the time to be secretive about your abilities."

Sweat beginning to form on his brow, Osiris fought to breathe. Not only did the headmaster not know that he was a druid, which he would nearly be divulging by answering, but it seemed as if Professor Snape knew that there was more to him, at least in skill.

The headmaster interrupted his thoughts, "Mr. Silver, I have been well aware that Severus is a druid for quite some time now. It is quite clear now that you are as well. I harbor no prejudices about that. You needn't concern yourself. Do what you have to do."

Knowing that the Professor would have more questions should he say that he did not know, as he already seemed to have enough insight into Osiris to know that he could do it, Osiris decided that this was the better way to protect himself.

He nodded at Professor Snape, "Yes, sir, I know how."

"Can you feel it," the dark man asked, regarding Osiris' ability to sense the Dark Magic, which would be quite necessary for this to be successful.

Osiris swallowed, feeling incredibly vulnerable, incredibly in personal danger, although it was clear no once else in the room sensed this. He nodded again.

"Then do it," he stated.

Uncertainty covered Osiris, making his mouth dry, "A residual banishing is the only thing I know which may work, sir. I have never actually done it this way…through transference."

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes impatiently, "You cannot make it worse."

That was an understatement in Osiris' mind, there were many ways in which he could make it worse, but he pulled out his wand anyway.

This action seemed to infuriate his Professor, because he lifted his head slightly, and delivered a death glare, "Mr. Silver, don't make me repeat myself."

Osiris knew that the man was referring to his comment about being secretive about his abilities. Taking a shallow breath, because he couldn't force himself to take a deep one he felt so nauseated, Osiris put his wand between his teeth. He hadn't felt such fear in such a long, long time. If the Professor had already felt or saw, through Osiris' actions or Legilimency, that Osiris did not need his wand to do this it was the closest anyone had ever come to knowing the truth about him.

The Professor closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He knew it would be very painful as simply as Osiris knew that it would be. Being hit by any banishing spell worth its salt was painful enough but having one of the strongest ones delivered directly into your body was quite something else.

Osiris put both his hands flat on the man's chest, feeling the wetness beneath them that could only be blood. The man was very ill and very injured, Osiris knew he would have to hold it as long as he could. If he was letting this out about himself, despite the possible ramifications, he was going to do it to the best of his ability. He would have to focus his mind perfectly. He closed his eyes and started thinking of rivers, rivers of clean rolling water.

When he felt ready, he murmured, "_Tranfero potestare_."

It was slow at first, his sense difficult to manipulate. He pulled back his urgency, thinking of the water moving more slowly, but branching out into more rivers, smaller rivers which would go further. He felt the coldness of his hands. Then slowly the part which reminded him of his own vulnerabilities, his own afflictions. The fast and erratic beating of the Professor's heart making Osiris' entire body feel as if it was in sync. The connection of the transference, of his magic being where it was not supposed to be, blurring the line between his body and that of his mentor.

The dialation of the Professor's arteries, pushing the blood all over his body as fast as it would go in an effort to speed the healing process. The feeling of it moving, rushing, pulsing, crashing. Its warmth, its thickness.

He felt his body shudder. He fought back his revulsion for this feeling and focused again on rivers, rivers spreading out.

Slowly he began incanting the residual banishing, focusing it outward, focusing on adding it to the water. Purifying the water, spreading it to the streams.

The sense redoubling, he felt the blood fight, the arteries constrict with the pain the man must be feeling at the banishing. Osiris gasped slightly for air, not realizing that he was doing so, feeling his hands go colder and colder. He knew he had to keep the connection going as he hadn't held the banishing very long.

The blood, the hot blood, spreading life, just as his transference was speeding magical energy through the Professor's body, just as the banishing was traveling through his own magic but not within himself.

He could feel it fleeting, the river erroding the jagged rock. The effect of Dark Arts exposure cracking under the pressure of the power of the transference and the banishing, being consumed by it. It was almost over.

After what seemed like another eternity, Osiris pulled his hands away, the feeling become too sickening for him. He could not longer continue safely, for himself or the Professor.

He felt as if he had slammed back into his body as the magic came coursing back into him as he ended the transference.

He felt depersonalization, a stranger in his own cold body. His lips cold, his hands cold, his heart still thumping in a strange manner. The acidic, salty taste rising in his mouth.

His mind wandered helplessly now that his focus broke. Transference was temptation, temptation for Dark things. Unspoken desire. The yearning hunger came up within him. He swallowed and promptly passed out.

Doing Dark Arts was never without personal consequence...As Professor Snape had told Professor Lupin several weeks prior.

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The headmaster raised his glance from Mr. Silver, passed out on the floor, to Severus, who was just waking from having also passed out.

"I do not ever want to see that again," the headmaster said, dismally, his voice low and disturbed.

The Professor, still racked with pain, muttered, "Regretably necessary… Quite fortuitous actually… given the circumstance…"

The headmaster shook his head, "It did not have to be healed that way. You didn't have to see it, Severus. It was-." He stopped.

"You didn't have to feel it," the man countered, ascerbically, his eyes narrowing. "I did…He did…" He took a ragged, short breath, "He will be righted."

"That I am not concerned about," he dismissed, too easily for Severus' taste, "Perhaps I did not realize the full liberality of druid practice."

Severus was disturbed by the headmaster's apparent lack of regard for his apprentice. Dumbledore did not know enough about this to know what the consequences were for Osiris passing out, or the possible reasons why he had passed out. The boy had only done as he had asked, as he had been taught by the tradition he had been born into, and had been assured to do by the headmaster without judgement. The man was making that judgement anyway, despite his words. What happened to Osiris didn't matter. Severus could see it in his eyes as easily as he could see the judgement.

His voice angry and accusatory, Severus said, "You most often have to fight the Dark with what is Dark, Albus, the sooner you accept that, the better, for us all."

The headmaster countered angrily, "And is that why we have you, Severus?" He almost immediately regretted his words. They were rash and discriminatory. Severus was not a Dark wizard and he was well aware of this fact, well aware of it ten times over, twenty times over.

The reaction on the younger man's face was enough to tell him how far he had stepped over the line. It was emotional betrayal. If he was another wizard, he knew that Severus would not have had the self-control to let that go. He was seething.

"I am sorry, Severus," he said, sincerely, wiping his forehead. "These situations, I am afraid, unseat me in the worst way. As to your comment about fighting Dark with Dark, that is a most druidic notion. The rest of the wizarding world does not see it that way."

"That does not mean that they are right," he retorted, snarling, staring at the ceiling.

Were he not so very much a man, he would have looked like a petulant child.

"That does not mean that you are right, either," the headmaster said, gently, putting a hand tentatively on his spy's shoulder.

Movement from the ground halted the conversation where it had been. Mr. Silver was waking up.

Osiris put a hand on the tabletop and helped pull himself into a sitting position, feeling dizzy.

"All right, Mr. Silver," Professor Snape asked.

Vainly, Osiris tried to gather his thoughts. "Not sure. Cold," he managed.

At Snape's curt nod, which Osiris missed, the headmaster looked on the table and then picked up a phial questioningly. He leaned down and held it in front of Osiris' face.

Tentatively, Osiris took it and looked at it, his eyes not wanting to focus just yet, his vision dark around the edges.

"It is a regenerative, Mr. Silver," the Potion's Master stated, slowly.

Without further hesitation, Osiris popped the cork off the phial and took it. It could have just as easily been poison in his current state.

A few moments later, he pushed himself up further and then sat on the short table, pulling down his sleeves. His arms and hands were so cold.

"It will pass," the Professor said, his voice weak instead of commanding as it usually was. "It is natural to feel many things during and after." He took another breath, "The feeling during transference can be…inconvenient…unwanted…"

The headmaster gave a little huff here, not wanting to be reminded of how horrific the entire thing had looked through his eyes.

Osiris nodded, not saying that he felt things most unnaturally even for a druid, the situation no longer merited his candidness.

Professor Snape frowned and put his hand against his ribcage.

The headmaster was quick to notice this and said, "I still need to heal the physical injuries, Severus. I will have someone teach your classes tomorrow and , I daresay, perhaps Tuesday as well."

"Mr. Silver will teach my classes," he stated simply, strongly.

"Mr. Silver looks to be in no condition to teach your classes either," Dumbledore said, skeptically.

"Mr. Silver will teach my classes," the Professor repeated, vehemently. "He is my apprentice, he is more than capable."

Osiris stared, his mind still feeling a bit slow, his body not feeling satiated.

After a moment of staring at Severus, Dumbledore nodded, not wanting to fight with the man about it. It would do nothing for his current condition.

His mind tried to focus more as his mentor's black eyes locked onto his, "Sleep, Mr. Silver, you will be of no more use here tonight."

Osiris nodded, feeling quite light-headed.

"My first class is not until ten. You will find syllabi in my desk in the classroom. I will have notice for the students."

Osiris' sleep did nothing but bring him nightmares about what he had experienced, did nothing but rouse feelings inside him that he detested. He would be feeling the consequences of this for a few days.

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A/N

THANK YOU for the wonderful response to the last chapter. I'll generally always post after 10 reviews.

Your reward was this very fast update. I hope you enjoy it, there are plot bunnies running around rampant. (Linden, I do hope that you notice exactly what they are and what they spell, lol. Perhaps we'll talk about it on MSN since you can't leave it in a review per se, then it would ruin things for everyone!)

IF you figure out any of the plot bunnies, PLEASE do not leave it in a review, even SPECULATION, because you will ruin it for other people, especially since a lot of people actually read the reviews for stories. You can send any questions or comments about that stuff to me directly THANKS. Sage (underscore) Severus (underscore)Snape (at)hotmail . com without the spaces.

Resposes to Reviews:

Linden: Wow, you know your reviews are always the best. They actually help me write, lol. If I responded to all of that, there'd be another ten pages in this fic, LMAO. So, he is my response... Juliefied Snape Humor, lol, YES! And you were right, there is something in the snake milking section (not my favorite part of the fic, but I needed something to get this out for some bunny food). As to the shoulder pushing, no he was not looking for what we talked about on MSN, he has no inkling of that yet, but will soon. It was more of a yup, I have no ability to say something personally meaningful, you really don't either, so I'll just touch your shoulder for 3 seconds to convey my appreciation for what you said. Importantly, Osiris does not know taht Severus was/is a Death Eater, as you could probably tell from this. That is why calling Sev Master in front of Malfoy struck Osiris as strange and why he asked the question in the first place. Your solar plexus is the area behind where your sternum ends (that big bone in the middle of your chest that holds your ribs together) it is not really by your stomach as we see it (being your belly below your chest) it is actually by your stomach organ which is actually house at the bottom of your chest before your belly (where your intestines are). Hope that sorts out the funny picture of Snape touching Osiris' stomach, lol. You are partially right about the reason for Snape trying not to hit him, there are many reasons, but I am not telling you which one you were right about. ;-) But I wouldn't read too much into it. HUGS I miss you loads. Do you still use elvenmaiden as your MSN? Are you ever on? I was actually online when you left those 3 reviews! lol. I was like LINDEN, I"M HERE, I'm HERE!

Emma- Glad to hear it.

Nixin - Hey, I talked to yah so this will be short... Yeah it will be very interesting when Ddore sticks his two sense into the matter.

The musician - I was half tempted to review your story with a "." but as you don't have one, I didn't need to worry about giving in to my evil impulses. That was a bit rude, a simple "I like the fic" would have been just as easy and not so distasteful.

SexyisSnape126 - Kind and sweet...never thought about it that way, but I guess he is. HIs troubled past has led him to be guarded and distrustful, but not hateful and bristly. 25 years+ of troubled past has done that for Snape, but Osiris is still young. He is still looking for something. I guess you really caught what I was hoping someone would catch. OSiris trusts Snape now, or at least that trust has begun to form, and Osiris is very loyal. He doesn't have much, but what he has he appreciates, because he knows how bad "bad" can really be (something you all won't know the full extend of for quite a few chapters).

Oihane - Sorry about the cliffy, but I updated fast to make up for it. I am glad that you thought the DE meeting was rather accurate. There will be another one soon, obviously, and that is the more important one.

Interested reader - Grounded :(, hopefully you did something that made the grounding completely worth it. I wish I had gotten into more trouble when I was younger...now I go to jail if I do something bad. Detentions would have been worth it way back when to do a little innocent trouble-making. Bad things happen a lot in this fic, lol.

Emmy - glad I brightened up your week! Wicked! Thanks for saying it is well written, I try. I don't even have a beta, I don't have the patience for one, lol.

Elbereth - Thanks so much. I love to explore Snape's character because JKR doesn't show us ,much of it.

Fcuking Cathy - Thanks for the review! Glad you are still around.

Duj - Ouch, sitting after a hip replacement doesn't sound fun. Now I know why I haven't gotten an update from your fic, lol. I'll be patient! You are right about Osiris making a better apprentice away from distraction. This is some minor foreshadowing on my part because he does have the capability to be that way when he is motivated enough and in control of himself and his hormones enough...This comes back in a major way very soon. Realistically, if it were that painful, I am sure that most people would scream. However, this is more of a tool for me (as realistic is really relative anyhoo, especially inthe HP ffn world). When you have that little amount of control over what happens in your life, you try to take advantage of those things that you can control. As Snape is a control freak, I would see him making a grand attempt to not scream. This is a bit of a plot bunny too. In addition, because he does not scream, voldie doesn't get as much a kick out of doing it to him and thus doesn't hold it as long as he might if Snape were screaming in a way that gave him a power kick. So there is a logical purpose. Plus, Snape is no ordinary wizard, he is a druid, and as I haven't let out very much about what that means yet...it might seem a bit over the top that he doesn't scream. Lets just say that he wasn't always so stoical in the face of pain.

Kaitie - DAMN! you hit it on the head. Good for you, I am really thrilled! "he really appeals to me because you know he really is a good kid but he is just a victim of circumstances." I could not have siad it better myself! He is a HUGE victim of circumstance but what makes him who he is and more of a tougher character and impulsive character, is that he doesn't say "poor me", he fights back. If he had said "poor me" and not done anything he would probably be dead, so that's a good thing. ;-) Thanks for review, I really LOVE it when a review tells me something meaningful like this.


	23. Staring Icily into Hell

Chapter 23

Staring Icily into Hell

Osiris would be kidding himself if he told himself that he felt comfortable filling in the Potions Master's shoes. In truth, he was hesitant. He had familiarized himself with the Professor's syllabi for the classes he was teaching that day, and he knew what he was doing but he still could not shake the feeling.

He had merely slept for an hour or two, an hour or two riddled with bloody, violent nightmares. The night before, or rather that morning, had left him addled. He always felt like this after using any Dark Practice, but this was much worse. He had never before come that close to…No he could not go there, not now, not right before he had to teach. There were doubts, there were questions and there were no answers, especially about what had happened to the Professor.

He felt so worn.

Slowly, methodically, he drummed his finger on the desk, waiting for the students to come.

His first class was third year Slytherin and Gryffindor. That should be a right joy.

When the students had assembled, eyeing him warily, even his fellow Slytherins, he tapped the note the Professor had left for the students with his wand and watched as the note delivered a short, threatening message much in kin to a Howler.

"Mr. Silver, my apprentice, is teaching my classes today. I expect that members of all houses will treat him with the proper respect. Should any one of you decide that this is the proper time to disregard any rules or code of conduct, you will find yourself in detention with Filch for a week with a deduction of 20 house points. You should behave as if I am there as I will receive a full report at the end of the day, and in these circumstances I do not expect any one of you to want to chance my extreme displeasure."

Osiris feeling significantly more empowered, looked around at the faces of the thirteen year olds. They all looked full of suspence, waiting to see what would happen. His hesitation floated away as he looked at all these little kids. He was simply standing there and he was impressive to them.

Plus anyone with the salt to work with Professor Snape in that close of quarters on a daily basis has to be a snarky bastard too, right? As least that is what he read on the Gryffindors' faces.

"Your potion is on the board, I suggest you get to it as you will need the entire classtime. It wouldn't do to rush as Professor Snape is still grading your samples."

The first fifteen minutes or so went well. The Slytherins still felt as if they would be favored as a member of their house was teaching the class still. The Gryffindors, likely having heard rumors, appeared to be almost as afraid of him as they were of Professor Snape.

He walked by to see how things were going, and stopped by one Slytherin boy.

"Are you making soup," he asked the brown, mop-headed kid.

"Er, no, er, sir."

Osiris scoffed at the poor kid not knowing how to address him.

"Then I would pay more attention to when you add ingredients. You don't just throw it all together and heat it up. Order and timing makes a difference. With the standard Professor Snape holds his house to, I should think you would be more careful."

The boy nodded at him and he continued down the line.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a piece of parchment travelling from the front of the Gryffindor side of the room to the back. He turned that way and walked up to the person who currently had hold of it and held out his hand.

The girl, a blonde with freckles, colored significantly before handing it over to him.

"Care to tell me who this is from," he asked.

"I don't know," she answered coloring more. "I was just passing it," she added, looking a bit scared.

"Passing it to?"

"I think it says."

He frowned, "Miss Shannon, well, lets see who decided to pass notes to Miss Shannon in the middle of class."

Fighting the desire to roll his eyes, after he read the note, he looked around the room for the guilty male face. He found a likely suspect with blonde hair, blushing profusely.

"And are you Dennis?" Osiris asked, walking up to the boy.

He nodded, not able to find his voice.

"Dennis?"

"Creevy."

"Well Mr. Creevy, does Professor Snape habitually allow you to pass love notes during class?"

"No."

"I didn't think so," Osiris said, "Well it looks as if someone has earned detention with Filch and lost his house 20 points. Does anyone else care to join him?" He looked around, "I thought not."

The boy, who was incredibly small on second glance was now mortified, possibly near tears. Served him right for doing something so stupid. Professor Snape would have done much worse, but Osiris couldn't find it within himself to be downright mean.

"Well, Mr. Creevy, not much hope in you finishing your potion since you have hardly finished the first step. So I believe you can pack up and stop being a distraction by removing yourself from class - with failing marks for the day, I might add."

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Osiris walked back into Professor Snape's quarters completely exhausted from watching all those children work with caustic ingredients carelessly all day long. He stopped three feet in the door when he saw the Professor sitting on the couch staring lifelessly into the fireplace, nursing a rocks glass full of firewhiskey.

Without turning to look, the man said, "Take a seat, Mr. Silver."

Swallowing, Osiris obeyed and sat down in the chair to the couch's left, placing his composition book of notes from the day on the table in front of him. The man's face was paler than usual, the pain very apparent on it. He appeared brooding.

"I assume that I would approve of the manner in which you taught my classes today," the man asked, sounding strangely detached.

"Yes, sir," he answered, "I believe so."

"Very well, and was anyone foolish enough to cause a problem?"

"That blonde Creevy boy, Gryffindor, third year was passing love notes across the classroom."

The man scowled, "Idiot boy…Gryffindors…And you gave him a week's detention with Filch and took house points?"

Frowning at the man's strange demeanor, Osiris answered, "Yes, sir, just as you said in your note. He wasn't really even working on his potion and definitely couldn't finish it, so I had him pack up and leave."

"Perceptive, Mr. Silver," he answered.

An eerie silence filled the space between them as the Professor stared forward icily, into the flames, the brightness that they reflected into those black eyes making the man's face seem even more intense.

Osiris licked his lips slightly and said, "Professor, is something bothering you, other than the obvious I mean?"

At this the Professor did turn to look at him and Osiris was shocked at the emptiness in the man's dark eyes. The Professor's look was generally calculating, serious, and sometimes harsh, but he had never seen the man act this way. He had never looked into the Professor's eyes and seen bottomless pits of emptiness.

Osiris watched as his mentor's gaze narrowed, as if he were being harsh with his own thoughts.

In a deep and disturbing whisper, the man said, "Yes and no, but we will talk of that later." He gradually raised his voice to continue, "I have a meeting with the headmaster shortly and you should expect a summons from him shortly thereafter."

The stoical and private man's candidness surprised him.

He responded tentatively, slightly in kind, "I'll do whatever you ask of me, sir."

The man cleared his throat and put down the glass of liquor, this was more difficult than he had imagined. It had been a very long time since he had spent as much of his time around one person as he had with his apprentice. It was that statement made by the boy which made him the uneasiest of all. He didn't doubt it, and even though that was the feeling he had wanted for many months, under these circumstances it disturbed him greatly. Inwardly he scoffed. The disturbed feeling was surprising considering that these were the circumstances that had originally dictated that need in the first place.

The circumstances brought the Professor back around to another statement, "I wanted to talk with you about certain things which you did last night."

Osiris nodded, feeling that the man needed time to frame his thoughts. He knew that now was not the time to ask question either. He was intuitive enough to know that was what the summons from the headmaster would be for, based upon what the headmaster had said to him the night before about asking questions.

His master's dark eyes looked into his hazel ones and Osiris didn't look away. It was very rare that he ever felt that the man was not guarded and this was one of those moments. This made it very clear that there was something serious he had to say.

"I must preface what I am to say, Mr. Silver… You have tended to showcase some of your worst qualities more often than I would care to see, your disrespect, your impulsivity, your severe lack of control, even your idiotic lack of use of your intellect."

Osiris looked down here and frowned, feeling disappointment in the critique, before he looked back up when the man continued.

"When you first came here, I do believe in my first class with you, I said that those qualities would always dwarf your intelligence, diminish your potential. However, in saying that, I admitted to the fact that I did see the possibilities for you. I do not believe you read that much into it, however."

The man stopped again, his brow furrowing as he further considered what he was saying.

"I too had to learn those lessons a long time ago."

Osiris raised his eyebrow. Was the man saying what he thought he was saying? Had he once been the same way? That was quite something to admit.

"That said, Mr. Silver, it was quite fortuitous that you were there last night. I have… appreciated… your ability to be an adult these last few weeks. I do not fail to notice the sacrifice you made last night in helping me. I know what it is like to do those spells, and I know the possible consequences. It will not be forgotten."

For a few moments, Osiris was dumbfounded. That quite possibly was the nicest thing that the Professor had ever said to him, and given the man's character, it was probably the largest compliment he had ever received from any professor, perhaps any one single person.

"Thank you, sir," he answered, more quietly than this usual tone.

The man nodded at him with the same bothered demeanor that made Osiris feel that there was definitely something bad going on, something that the Professor had not really anticipated. Perhaps the man felt badly for what he had asked Osiris to do?

After a few long seconds, Osiris added, "It was no sacrifice of mine, Professor Snape, considering the circumstances. It was not a decision that I made. I knew what I had to do. There was no real risk to me, sir, believe me I have done similar things before. Like you discerned a few months ago after that incident with Professor Lupin, I have had a substantial amount of controlled practice."

It was more than Osiris would usually say, but if the Professor was going to add things up from last night, or if he was already suspicious, this statement would be meaningless in comparison anyway.

Slowly the man said, "Perhaps you will tell me when you are ready to do so, Mr. Silver, why that is the case. It is very uncommon for someone so young to have such control over powers of the mind even as a druidic talent… to have sufficient focus to do that spell with such significant success, especially wandlessly."

Osiris exhaled, "You were not expecting it to be so, sir, even though you knew that I could perhaps do the transference and the banishing without a wand." He had, in fact, not really considered this.

"I saw that you did not need your wand to do those things when I saw the look on your face, no doubt you know that it prompted me to use Legilimency. I was too weak to work further through your Occlusion, even though it was not strong, nor would I really seek to do so without reason. I did not expect you to be that successful on the transference, the headmaster does not know enough of the practice to find it odd."

Osiris felt it strange that the man was being so lenient in not pressing the matter further. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and laid his chin on his fists.

As if the man sensed what Osiris was feeling, he said very seriously, "It is wise to hide things about yourself, Mr. Silver, as it will always give you an advantage in dangerous situations. The elements of surprise and underestimation are vastly underappreciated by many. Should the time come where I feel that I need to know, I will expect you to answer candidly, or you know that I will take it by force and you will have little recourse to stop me."

"Yes, sir, I understand," he said, soberly, hoping that day never came.

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The headmaster stared across his desk into the black eyes of Professor Snape, digesting what he had just been told. If his Potions Master did not bring the Silver boy with him to the next meeting, he was likely going to be killed.

"You have not said anything to him yet?" the old wizard asked finally.

Scowling, Severus answered, "No, and I have no inclination to either."

Looking over his spectacles, Dumbledore asked, "What do you mean you have no inclination to tell him?"

"I meant it exactly as I said it. I will not ask him to do this-."

"You must, Severus, there is no other recourse. You have to take him, there is too much at stake." The headmaster interrupted.

"Too much at stake for whom?" Severus asked, seeds of anger in his voice.

"For you, for all of us, for the Order. We cannot afford to lose you, to lose that information. Think of all the lives. Think of the future."

"And what about _his_ life, headmaster," he spat, righteously, "What about his _future_!"

"He is one person," the man answered, seriously, the twinkle not present in his abnormally cold, blue eyes. These were hard times and sacrifices had to be made.

"I will not trade the extension of my life for his life, Albus, and you cannot force me to!"

"You must explain it to him. You must give him the choice."

Severus stood up shakily, "You wish me to burden a seventeen year old boy with that sort of a choice, not withstanding the fact that he will undoubtedly see the choice as an order to do it."

"He is a seventeen year old adult, of age, about to be eighteen in a little over two months! He is far from innocent, Severus, and you know it."

"That is your judgement! The same judgement you made of me when I was that age, do you not remember? Are all Slytherins fated to be evil in your eyes, do you even see your prejudices? You push them towards Him, you give them no other options, they are spurned by all the other houses and you do nothing! Nothing!"

"You know that is not the case, Severus," he said, standing up, "Now sit down."

"I will not! You have not seen what I have seen," he continued, "You do not even know him and you are willing to sacrifice him simply because of what he is, because he isn't one of your innocent Gryffindors. Not everyone is priveledged enough to live Potter's life."

Dumbledore chose to not even respond to that statement.

The headmaster continued on, "And how do you think he will feel when he finds out that Voldemort killed you for the simple reason that you failed to bring him to a meeting? You know undoubtedly that Mr. Malfoy will make him aware of that fact. And what do you suppose will happen when Voldemort no longer has a Potions Master to make his potions? Do you think it will end there? They know about him, it is too late for him."

"It is not too late for him," he answered, vehemently. Then he added, "I should never have apprenticed him in the first place, it was a moment of weakness, and it has led to this."

Worn out, the Professor fell back down into his seat.

The headmaster sat down and said, "You will give him the choice, Severus. It is unlikely that he will be Marked, he is still a student."

Frowning, the man answered, "Marking isn't the only thing which could happen to him at a Death Eater meeting, Albus."

"It is the worst."

Severus frowned at what the man didn't even know.

"I will not ask him. This will be on your head, you can ask him if you wish, but I will play no part in it. I will make my position quite plain to him."

The headmaster finally asked the one question that he wasn't sure he wanted answered, "And what _will_ happen to him if he goes?"

"I have unfortunately made it known that he is not sympathetic, but rather neutral, and if he is to be believed, he will have to appear to be neutral if he goes. He will come back in one piece in all likelihood, but I would be lying if I said that he would not likely go through worse than what I went through last night."

The headmaster stood up and said, "I have faith that you can see him through this, Severus. He is a smart boy, and powerful especially as a druid, and he is very strong. You will prepare him well."

"I hope he says no," Severus said, under his breath, spitefully.

A/N I originally wrote this as one chapter, but it really stretched two. I think there are two separate feelings in the chapters which needed to be split up to be appreciated. Again, I have the chapter written and will post again after 10 reviews.

Interested Reader - 200th reviewer! Does that mean you should get some sort of a reward?

Duj - There will be more about druids in the future; however, there is more about Osiris that isn't about being a druid which is much more startling.

MerlinHalliwell - Thanks! Great to hear from a new person! ;-) Hope you liked this chapter as well.

Elalien - Are you beginning to get the sense that Dumbledore doesn't care much about what happens to Osiris? Does it make you wonder if at one time he felt the same way about Severus? If yes, does he still feel that way about Severus, and if not, what changed his mind? Those are the questions going through my head right now. I haven't really developed ddore in my head very much yet for this story... What was being banished was the residual effects of having the Dark Arts used on you, it is kind of like a countercurse.

Elbereth - Thanks a lot! I was trying to make this fic much darker than my other series (although if you like this fic you'd probably like my Sage stuff too). How do you feel about the darkness in this chapter.

Emmy - Sorry about the confusion. I am sometimes a bit cryptic about things, bc I eventually like to pull the carpet out from under my readers.

Oihane - "And I liked how Dumbledore was actually shown as a little more human..he made a mistake, he made a judgement. he wasn't just all-knowing and perfect." I really liked this comment of yours. This is the wya that I really want to portray ddore. What do you thikn of him after this chapter?

SilvertoCrimson - Good luck on finals. "You know a chapter is great when I feel empty and full at the same time. Wow." I really liked this comment, very deep. What a compliment!

SExyIsSnape126 - What do you think of Severus after this chapter? This is a really important SEverus chapter, not only for what he says, but how he looks, and how he is thinking.

READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE!


	24. Silent Disclosures

Chapter 24

Silent Disclosure

The headmaster opened the floo connection to the Professor's quarters and saw the boy look up from his place reading on the couch.

"Mr. Silver, will you please join Professor Snape and I in my office?"

Within moments, Osiris stepped through the fireplace and looked at the two older men.

He nodded gravely, knowing that something major was about to be discussed with him.

Professor Snape stared hard at the boy, loathing this situation more and more with every passing minute. He had not even known the extent of his feelings on the matter until he had the meeting with Dumbledore. He had not realized that he had become that close to the boy despite his efforts to prevent it.

As Osiris stood there, Severus caught his eye and saw the same feeling and meaning behind those changing cat-eyes that he had seen when Osiris had found him passed out in his foyer.

It had been a very, very long time since anyone had looked on him that way. Since anyone had looked upon him as if he mattered and as if they cared. He knew that, he knew Osiris couldn't otherwise express it, just as simply as he couldn't express it, but he knew that it was true. It made him hate himself. This should never have happened.

"Mr. Silver, take a seat," the headmaster's voice cut through his thoughts.

He watched as Osiris pushed up the sleeves of his white shirt, something Severus was now realizing he did quite often. Such a simple thing now took on so much more meaning. Those arms were clean, unmarked. He cringed on the inside as he knew the headmaster was about to give Osiris a choice that could take away the boy's life forever. His life would never again be his own. If he went, Osiris could never be his true self.

The headmaster continued, even though Osiris wasn't looking at him, but looking sideways at Professor Snape.

"I would ask that you listen to everything that we have to say, Mr. Silver, before you respond in any way. I must also ask that you swear not to say a word about what is said here to anyone else. Do you understand me?"

Osiris turned and looked at the headmaster, frowning slightly, "yes, sir," he said, nodding.

"Severus, I do believe that it is best you explain this part."

Once again, Osiris returned his eyes to his Professor.

Severus saw a similar concern and confusion in Osiris before he spoke.

"Mr. Silver, before I explain any of what happened last night to you, I must tell you one thing that is very important and you must keep this in mind. After I am finished, the headmaster will ask you to do something. I must be very clear that I will not ask you to do this, much less order you to do it. It is my sincere wish that you not. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," he said, his face growing more confused.

Scowling, Severus wondered where to begin. He could not find the proper words, and he knew that it would be very blunt.

"I was about your age when I made the gravest mistake of my life," he said, before he pulled up the sleeve of his left arm and exposed his Dark Mark to his apprentice.

Osiris' color drained quickly in a matter of seconds, his jaw tensing. His Professor, the man he had apprenticed himself to, given his life to for seven years, was a servant of the Thing that had murdered his father. He wanted to say something but was true to his word and stayed silent.

Professor Snape felt an emptiness inside himself that was all consuming. Perhaps he had always felt this way, but now something has changed to make this feeling apparent. He fought away the look of abject betrayal that was coming from his apprentice's face.

"My father was a hateful man and he hated me most of all. He would have killed me himself if I had not gone and taken the Mark. He," he said hatefully, "had already promised my life to the Dark Lord. I wish that I could tell you that I am blameless, Mr. Silver, but I cannot. I was intoxicated by His power, by what He could offer me, and he in turn was amused by my strength and my proud defiance. In time he allowed me the one thing that I had wanted my entire life…He let me kill my father."

A strong silence following, during which Osiris felt his stomach sour as the muscles in his face tensed with even more burdens than he already had...from his own life.

Professor Snape continued, "It was not very long after that when I realized that this was not what I wanted and that I had sold my life away. The senseless killings were too much for me. Then He asked me to involve my wife, which I would not do. When I showed up at the next meeting without her, he murdered her and my child, and I came home to find it. He had hoped to scare me into submission, but instead I turned to the only place I could, to the only person whom the Dark Lord feared. Since then, I have been spying on the Dark Lord, betraying information to the headmaster."

Osiris stared, not having any words, not trusting himself to say anything.

The headmaster slowly said, "There are people who work against Voldemort, Mr. Silver, and they are called the Order of the Phoenix. I head that effort and Professor Snape works for me, using his closeness to Voldemort to save many lives."

But Osiris hadn't taken his eyes of Professor Snape or the Dark Mark which was still open on his skin. He hated what that Mark stood for, hated that his father had it, and had died with it, because of that twisted megalomaniac.

"Mr. Silver," Professor Snape continued, "As you have no doubt deduced, last night I came back from a meetings with the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters. He was angry with me for keeping things from him, for keeping the fact that I found someone worthy of apprenticing from him," he said slowly, almost quietly.

His eyebrow arching, Osiris stared at those black eyes, pins a needles going up his arms unnaturally.

Once again the headmaster cut in and said, "Voldemort gave Professor Snape an ultimatum, Mr. Silver, which he has not told you about yet…If Professor Snape does not bring you to the next meeting to meet Voldemort… He will be killed. You understand that having someone in Voldemort's midst in the primary way that the Order organizes against him. What I am asking you to do is to go with Professor Snape to the next meeting."

Osiris looked from the headmaster to the Professor, overwhelmed with different emotions and memories. Hatred for the man that killed his father. The memory of his father's laugh, the only real memory that he had that hadn't dissapated. Concern for Professor Snape, the only person other than his own family that had even given him any consideration at all. He closed his eyes and then put his head in his hands.

Professor Snape sighed.

Finally, Osiris said to Professor Snape, "Can I talk now, sir."

"Yes, Mr. Silver. You are free to say or ask whatever you wish."

Uncomfortably, Osiris said, almost ignoring the headmaster, "What will happen if I go, Professor Snape?"

The man sighed again, "There are many ramifications, Mr. Silver, many preparations we would need to make, many things that you would most definitely need to give up. The immediate consequences at the meeting would be pain, I will not gloss this, not that you are daft. Tortuous pain. Possibly extensive humiliation. I cannot pretend to anticipate perfectly, but that is a sufficient idea."

Osiris swallowed, his face looking significantly pained, he asked, "Will He really kill you, sir, if I do not go?"

The Professor set his jaw and said, in a very detached manner given the subject, "Yes, it is most likely. He will suspect that I am not loyal to him. I give myself a ten percent chance of survival if you do not come, at best. But I will say again that _I_ will not ask you to go with me."

"Sir, is it possible that I will be killed?"

"It is doubtful, Mr. Silver, he believes you to be useful and desireable at this moment, or it would not be worth my life. In the future, there are no guarantees," he said, honestly.

"Will he Mark me too, sir?" he asked, quietly, unconsciously rubbing his arms and crossing them over his chest.

"It would not be wise for him to do so as you are still in school. I cannot be sure though, Mr. Silver, before his first fall he Marked people who were still at Hogwarts. He has not since his return to power."

Osiris nodded, and pursed his lips.

Severus voiced another concern to the headmaster, "Sir, I am not even sure that I can do this with Mr. Silver. It would take a significant degree of detachment that I am not sure I am still capable of accomplishing with him. It would be highly dangerous to us both. The preparations, well, let us simply say will not be pleasant. I am not sure that I can be that-."

"Cold, Severus?"

"Yes, headmaster," he answered.

"I believe that connection to be more of an advantage than you do. If Mr. Silver chooses to do this, you will both be significantly motivated for that precise reason."

Professor Snape frowned deeply.

Osiris moved his eyes to the headmaster and said, "Sir, do you think that Professor Snape and I could talk alone?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, he had not expected to be excused from his own meeting, or that either the boy or Severus would want that.

Professor Snape nodded, "The boy is right, this is a matter that is more between us. I would also not want your presence to pressure his decision."

When the headmaster left, the Professor finally pulled down his sleeve and then looked at Osiris, who was looking tired and ill. He had resumed his position with his elbows on his knees and his head cupped in his hands.

"Sir, I assume that we are going to be honest with each other in this, at this moment? I don't mean to be disrespectful or too personal, but I have to know, and I think the situation merits it."

Professor Snape only had to take on glance at the boy's hardened face to know that he was right about the burden the headmaster had placed upon him by allowing the boy to choose.

"I am inclined to agree, Mr. Silver."

Osiris took a deep breath, looking down at his hands, now clasped between his knees, "If I do not go, you will likely be killed, but if I do go I will merely be put through a lot of physical pain, but I will survive, likely unmarked."

The Professor scowled, "Look at me when you are talking to me Mr. Silver. Now is not the time."

Osiris looked up at him, and the Professor was assaulted by numerous painful emotions radiating off his apprentice. The pain behind his eyes at being in this situation was intense.

He frowned and said very personally, "Osiris you do not need to do this to gain my respect, you already have it." Never before, that he could readily remember, had he ever spoken words like those.

Osiris frowned, "I won't have it for very long if I don't do this, sir." The pause was long before Osiris finished, not quite understanding, "You don't want me to do this to save your life…"

"No, I do not."

"Why, sir?" he asked, slowly.

"Because I value your life and your future," he stated simply.

"But I value yours too, Professor Snape. Should that mean nothing to me?"

"Not as much as yours should. You have a future to live for…"

Osiris filled in the blank in his mind _'and I do not.'_

"Oh yes, sir, very much so," he said, sarcastically, "I have such a great record, so many friends, and such a wonderful family. I have nothing, Professor, except my brother."

Professor Snape scowled deeply, it did not have to be that way for his apprentice. He was so young. Perhaps he should not have been so hard on him, should not have isolated him so much from the other students by keeping him on restriction…but hadn't the boy turned out much better for the discipline? He had, but was there a cost that he hadn't considered. He scowled again, he had gotten too close and this mere thought told him that plainly.

Osiris continued, so much more pain in his voice, "Am I supposed to allow that Thing to ruin my life for the second time over? Am I supposed to just stand by why He kills someone else who…someone else who gives a damn about me? He's already killed my father. And how bright is my future without a Master to study under? He'd be taking that away too."

"Osiris I am not sure you fully understand the cost."

Osiris abandoned his anger and said, "Educate me then, sir."

The Professor stood up and glared down at Osiris harshly, this was going to be very difficult. His apprentice had to know, had to know so that he would have one last chance to come to his senses and say 'no'.

"If you thought you had no liberties and no choices before, you will have even less should you choose to do this. First, you will have to _master_ Occlumency because you will have to be able to evade the Dark Lord or you will betray us both. You cannot begin to fathom the horrific death that will bring. In order to hide things from him you will have to be able to push memories forward which confirm the story he has. That means you will have to have _real_ memories of me doing ruthless, cruel things to you, Mr. Silver. Which means we are going to have to really _live_ that way almost all the time, _live_ an _act, _for as long as it takes before it becomes a realistic, second nature. It will take a long time for you to be able to completely falsify things and until that happens we will have to live the falsehood to avoid detection. You will be forced to spent all day serving a _master _who abuses and belittles you because that is what I will have to do to keep us alive. I will also need to know if you _can _hold up under extreme physical pain or it will not even be worth it to bring you. You will not hold up under the Dark Lord if you cannot hold up under me. I don't know if I am capable or if you are capable of this anymore."

Osiris steeled his jaw, "I am capable of it if it saves your life, sir. My father died because of Voldemort, and now I have an opportunity to repay you, sir, and deal Him a blow."

The Professor said, "You don't need to repay me for anything, Mr. Silver."

Looking him straight in the eye, Osiris said, "You gave me a chance that no one else would, that no one else in my life _ever_ has. I said that I would do anything for you for that chance, sir, and I meant that. I keep my word. What sort of an apprentice would I be if I just stood by and watched you die when a simple sacrifice on my part could have prevented that? What sort of a person would I be?"

"A smart person."

"A selfish person, sir," Osiris countered.

"Osiris, I fear that once this begins you _will_ wish you had never even considered doing it. You _will _hate me when this is over, if it is ever over, for what I will have to do to you."

"I have more self-discipline than that, sir. I won't hate you for what I know you are doing to keep us both alive."

"I don't think that you do."

"Then I will simply have to prove you wrong, master."

The Potions master shook his head, furrowing his brow so deeply that a line formed between his brows.

When the man sat down again, Osiris looked at him openly, "Professor Snape, you made this decision very easy for me for the simple reason that you do not want me to do it. You do not know much about me personally, sir, but if you did you would understand how meaningful that is to me. The only other person alive at this moment that would do something for me is my brother. It simply comes down to the fact that you would rather die than see me in such pain or see me sacrifice my life..." The rest he didn't need to say or rather he couldn't say. How could he so readily just give that up?

The Professor said, very slowly and painfully, "I would not see you have my life, Mr. Silver. I am a pawn that is used, manipulated, and underappreciated by both sides. I have nothing because I can afford to have nothing."

"I will not sit here and say that I would be fine with your death either, sir, regardless of the life I would have to lead. I feel that it is a sacrifice worth making."

Severus found his chest very tight. This was so difficult, the emotions and thoughts associated with this were painful and not things he was used to experiencing. It brought back memories he wished he could repress forever. Osiris reminded him so very much of himself at that age: alone, and proud, and impulsive, and defiant. Severus was looking for something back then the same way that Osiris was looking for something now. Was it possible that the same decision that he had made which was wrong, could be the decision that was right for his apprentice. The decision to go to Voldemort had brought Severus closer to pain, emptiness, and the Dark, but could this decision keep Osiris away from it? Would this give the boy a meaningful life?

Severus was alone in his own private hell that he had created, burning in the fires atoning for his sins and at the same time seeking his own revenge for his family.

It had been thirteen or fourteen years since anyone had ever really given a damn about Severus because he was Severus Snape, not because he was the spy, the all-important pawn. That had all been taken away from him.

"I was horrible to you, Mr. Silver." He said. "I've been horrible to you."

Osiris knew what his meaning was.

"That not the way that I look at it, sir. I understand why you are the way that you are. Moreso now than ever. And neither of us is a Gryffindor…"

Severus scoffed.

Osiris allowed himself a small smirk. If the Professor offered him tea and biscuits over a nice long personal chat, he probably wouldn't know what to do. He probably would have avoided him like the plague.

Professor Snape bent over and put his elbows on his knees. As difficult as it had been for his apprentice, the boy had made an effort to let him know things…that he valued Severus' life. He had been very open and honest. Severus felt the need to do the same, but found it to be more difficult as he was far out of practice.

He leaned back in his chair.

"It will not always be pleasant, Mr. Silver, but I will endeavor to teach you everything that I know. That is what I will give to you for making this sacrifice for me. You will be strong and you will be able to survive anything if I have my way. You have a good foundation, a strong base, and you are a quick study."

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Review responses in the next chapter. Again I will post after ten reviews. ;-) I hope that you liked this chapter. Tell me what you think of the characters here, any surprises? Anything you did not like or thought was OOC? Lines you particularly liked or whatever?


	25. Chapter 25

A/N I am not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I've had a really LONG week and wanted to get it out for you all, so I might change it a bit and make it better. Because of this, make sure you tell me what you like and don't like because that will influence how I edit it. THANKS

Chapter 25

Premeditation and Meditation

The headmaster looked at the pair expectantly when he walked back into his office some time later. There was no discussion going on, there was nothing but silence. Severus was staring forward, his lips pursed, deep within himself.

The boy had a concentrated frown on his face, although his eyes were closed. There was no movement in his body at all, save the slow rise and fall of his chest. The headmaster supposed that it was likely this is what druid meditation looked like. He was collecting himself, focusing himself, balancing himself, something which took practice, as the headmaster understood it.

Neither acknowledged any awareness that he had again entered the room.

"Have you come to a conclusion, Mr. Silver?"

The boy opened his eyes and the headmaster was stunned for a moment by their colour and intensity. He fought the frown off his face. It was widely known, if one was familiar with any ancient magical tradition, that eyes were a window into the power of the wizard. Many powerful wizards had very striking eye colour. Dumbledore's deep blue, Harry Potter's emerald green, Lucius Malfoy's sleek silver grey, Draco Malfoy's ice blue, Severus' charcoal, Voldemort's now red eyes were also once a striking blend of orange and brown. Grindewald himself had aqua coloured eyes. Slytherin a hazel green. He stopped his mind from running through other striking colours.

Mr. Silver's eyes changed colours, the significance of which he was not sure, but they most often looked unnatural, frighteningly unnatural. Right now, when the boy opened his eyes, he thought he caught a flash of something behind them, but it happened so fast, he could not be sure. They were amber and orange, fading slowly into green.

The boy stood up, which was a quite unexpected action.

He said, his voice clear and strong, "I can conscience no other decision but to go, headmaster. If my pain and suffering saves my Master's life, then that is the sacrifice I must make."

The headmaster caught Severus' eyes narrow, but the dark man said nothing.

"I am glad that you have made that decision, Mr. Silver, our side is appreciative of the advantage that you will continue to allow us to have over Voldemort."

Severus' eyes narrowed further now.

Osiris inclined his head shortly, the circumstances of the headmaster's desire to him to do this were not lost on him. He was no idiot. To the powerful wizard in front of him, he was but another pawn, and he was expendable.

He looked back at Professor Snape, "With your permission, sir, I'd like to return home to set things in order for my brother tonight and retrieve some things from home which I might be needing."

Severus' face didn't betray anything as he stood up also, "I will accompany you out, Mr. Silver."

When they stepped out of the staircase, Osiris said, "I will not be long, Professor."

"I trust you will not. I'd take some time to clear your mind tonight, Mr. Silver. Tomorrow promises to be unpleasant for us both."

Frowning, Osiris said, "What is going to be expected of me, sir?"

The Professor answered, "It wouldn't be creating memories if we planned it out completely beforehand, Mr. Silver. Clear your mind tonight as I will mine. We will break from our new course only when I am instructing you on Occlumency. The persona I must adopt will not do to teach you anything about Occluding, although we must be rigorous about Occlumency, as it is the most vital skill you need to master before He calls again."

"Yes, sir, I'll do my best to refresh my skills before we begin. I've been a bit out of practice on my Focus," he admitted, rather quietly, he regretted not practicing now.

Professor Snape anticipated his reason for not practicing and said, "Even when danger is not constant and predictable, Mr. Silver, as it was for you at your old school, it will not do for you to fall out of practice with your druidry. It is an advantage that none anticipate, and you must endeavor to always keep your mind strong, as you are honored with that gift."

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Osiris sighed deeply as he entered his home. It was quiet and empty, and he was alone. It smelled of disuse even though the house elves kept it. He walked soundlessly across the marbled floor, made possible by dozens of night coming home very late and not wanting to wake his mother. He would wake no one now.

He hastened down the chalky steps to the lab area in the basement of the manor home.

His breath caught in his throat as he passed the open archway that led to his mother's workspace, and he continued to the next door and opened it.

Immediately he was acosted by the lights coming on and a loud noise he had forgotten to prepare himself for.

Lyrics jumped at his ears, "The world is a scary place now that you've woken up the demon in me. You know, you might get down with the sickness."

He raised his hand and muttered, "Finite Incantatem," not wanted to hear the dark lyrics of the band 'Disturbed' at this particular moment in his life. They were, perhaps, not too far from the truth, he lamented in his head… at least in the near future.

Not far from the doorway, he stood in what was his workspace. It was still in disarray from the many sleepless hours he had spent researching, trying to find the answers to his mother's death.

He didn't want to linger, did not want those memories to resurface now. Purposefully, he made his way to his cabinets and methodically began placing vials and jars into the black leather bag he had slung over his shoulder.

After a brief stop in the library to gather and shrink some necessary books, Osiris ran noisily up the stairs to his quarters. There was only one thing here which would be useful to him. The ornately designed metallic box was covered with Runes and Hieroglyphs. Running his hand over the top, he concentrated, and the top clicked open.

He pulled out one of the Egyptian daggers encased within and flipped it around in his hand deftly and then back again.

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It was late when he returned to Hogwarts, and he had yet to begin the task of clearing his mind, centering himself, finding his Focus, his Balance.

During his Rite of Passage he had been able to do it at will in a matter of seconds. These were all lessons he would need to relive in order to progress as fast as he needed to for his new task.

Druid practice was not well-known to the wizarding world, but what was known was what was told by those who turned their back upon their Druidic blood, those who chose not to follow in the tradition, those who chose not to send their sons through a Rite of Passage. As such, it was seen as much more evil and Dark than it was in reality or if it were to be properly explained.

During your Rite of Passage, you were broken in every sense of the term. There was no magic unless you could perform it without a wand, which meant that you spent the vast majority of your Rite without something that you had grown to rely on. You spent your Rite relearning how to do magic, how to do magic more powerfully than you ever could at such an early age. How did you learn to do that… Lessons were well-learnt and learnt fast when they were painful. You learned fast, you progressed fast, you put everything into what you learned in order to prevent pain.

The first lesson was finding Balance. In that, the door to everything else opened. One must be balanced to infuse both the light and the dark effectively, to not be consumed by one or the other. Furthermore, Balance and Focus unleashed ancient powers by strengthening your mind in a way that took most wizards a lifetime.

You were attacked with painful curses during your meditation. The desire to avoid that pain was what drove you to perfect your Focus. If you were in that state, you Llywen or Otherworld as druids referred to it, you would feel only a shadow of the pain.

If you failed at a task, or somehow defied tradition, you could most assuredly expect to be beaten. Unless you were able to Balance, you could expect that to be a lesson you would not forget easily.

Pain disciplined the mind.

The disciplined mind could perform wandless magic, could move faster, could sense things, could avoid pain. This was the druidic advantage that the Professor was alluding to in his short lecture to Osiris about falling out of practice.

That strength, that practice, was what had kept him alive at his old school, of that he was sure. Hogwarts, however, did not impress upon him the need as Scyon did. He had not consistently cleared his mind or meditated in months.

His lackluster attempt during the silence in the headmaster's office showed him how far out of practice he was.

He got down on one knee on the floor in his room and focused on his breathing, attempting to clear his mind. His eyes were closed, but his sense of being in the room was still real, still there, and he knew that this was a bad sign. He shouldn't feel the presence of anything physical around him in his meditation.

With a small movement of his hand he summoned one of the daggers in his pair and caught it, his eyes still closed. His body felt relaxed, but his mind was not clear, not in the least, he was so far out of practice. He put his left hand out in front of him, palm up, and with a deep breath he swiped the dagger deeply across it from the web of his thumb clear across the other side.

He cringed and then stealed his jaw.

First he focused on reciting the Rune alphabet, and then pain began subsiding. As soon as the feeling started, he turned his mind to it. There was no thought, just feeling, and he focused on the magic within himself, much similar to how he would to do Transference.

Slowly, he allowed the feeling to expand, feeling the magic that formed his magical aura. His own personal magical signature.

Then on ambient magic that was always present in the world around him, outside of his body.

Finally, he felt the strange, distant feeling of the magic present on other dimensional planes, an ability that was somewhat unique to him. He held onto it for awhile, but fear did not allow him to feel it for long, to manipulate it for long. Fear was the swiftest counter to Focus.

His druid Master had told him that his fear of this piece of himself was something that he would have to overcome on his own and until that happened, he would not be whole. If that was the truth, Osiris was perfectly happy not being whole.

He opened his eyes.

There was no pain, there was no blood, because there was no cut on his hand. Not anymore.

And that was what scared him. That was _not _normal, even by Druidic standards.

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Osiris exited his room the next morning not knowing what to expect but wanting to do some reading before breakfast. He stopped short, however, when Professor Snape's looming figure was sending a harsh, black glare his way, with his arms crossed imperially.

Osiris didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, so he waited for the man to make the first move. And make the first move he did.

"Mr. Silver, you will not dare enter my presence again in such a state of dress. I will not have my apprentice looking like a Gryffindor or some Muggle school-boy. I expect that same standard to be upheld even when classes are not in session."

Osiris raised an eyebrow half in shock, and then looked down at his clothes. He rolled down his left sleeve and buttoned the cuff, and began the same for the right while he said, "Yes, sir."

As he was looking at the button of his cuff, trying to get it through the hole, he completely didn't see it coming and definitely didn't expect it.

With a resounding crack, he stumbled backwards, knocked completely off-balance, and rammed his shoulder into the doorframe before he caught himself.

He almost allowed his jaw to drop as he registered that the man just backhanded him clear across his face, hard.

The man snarled, "I expect you to know the proper form of address for a Potions master when you are an apprentice, boy, and I expect it to be employed whenever you address me not in class."

Osiris refrained from touching his cheek as he answered, "It won't happen again, Master."

"I won't be so forgiving next time," the man hissed. He grabbed Osiris by the tie and collar and pulled him forward away from the wall and then pushed him towards the door before releasing his collar. "There is work for you to tend to in the classroom. I need ten gallons worth of infusion for the bolbeck potion for my second years. I suggest you get working, or you'll be late for your first class."

Although he felt the need to stare, Osiris fought it and turned his head away for an instant. He may have known that things would be different, but this was very starchy indeed.

"Yes, Master," he said, looking back at the man. His chest was tight, but his resolve was strong. He would definitely need to practice clearing his mind.

The Potions master turned to head back into the living room and then stopped short, "And, Mr. Silver, I don't suggest you sleep so late again, or you will risk my severe displeasure."

Osiris also turned around at this, one eyebrow pressed down, "Yes, s-Master."

"If you ever hope to eat breakfast again, I would suggest six."

The man slammed the door to his room before Osiris could answer.

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Severus had given up nursing his drink slowly, he was already on his third glass, which was somewhat of an oddity. He stalked back and forth in front of his fire, feeling ill at ease. His lip curled as he thought, "What the bloody hell is wrong with me. This shouldn't be so…" He downed the rest of the glass to avoid finishing that thought.

Being a Death Eater was never something that was not second-nature for him. It was a persona he could lapse in and out of at the drop of a pin. It felt real for him in the moment, as if those thoughts and actions were his own, always his own, not simply his own under particular circumstances.

It felt wrong now, foreign. With practice, he was sure that would change, but that did not make things easier in the moment now.

His mind replayed the last events of the evening for the fifth time…

_With everything going on, he knew that the boy wouldn't have done any preparation and wouldn't have been perfectly up to task on his readings, but still he knew what he had to do._

_He watched now as Mr. Silver tried to prepare the potion, his eyes stalking the boy's every movement, waiting for a mistake he could pounce on._

_"Mr. Silver, dried belladonna! Are you that much of an imbecile? Are you not prepared?"_

_The boy looked up at him, his mouth parted slightly, his cheeks slightly flushed. The tension showed all over him, clearly, all over him. Good, this is exactly as it should be._

_He imagined one of the many previous times that he had strongly wanted to smack the boy and then he did it._

_"When I ask you a question, you'll answer it, not just stand there stupidly."_

_"Yes, Master," he answer, quite fast this time. _

_Silver was learning the act rather fast and playing it fairly well._

_"Are you not prepared?" he asked again._

_"No, si-Master," the boy answered, the automaticity of 'sir' not yet out of him yet._

_This was the exact reason this needed to be done. One slip of 'sir' in front of the Dark Lord and there would be suspicions. The backhand he delivered was almost satisfying this time. The title of Master needed to be automatic and effortless, not ackward or forced._

_"I think you may be in need of a lesson about the respect due to the Master you are studying under, Mr. Silver."_

_He pulled the boy away from the simmering cauldron by the front of his shirt and then pushed him toward the wall as if he were a much smaller boy than he really way._

_Silver allowed himself to be manipulated, either because a piece of him was really afraid, or because he knew he was to go along with it. Severus would not have been able to push or pull him with such ease if he didn't allow it._

_There was anger on his face, he knew, but his entire body was seized up with tension. He smacked him again with a growl and tried to force it away._

_"You will be prepared, at all times, to brew any potion through the sixth year curriculum."_

_He forced him to back up towards the wall further with another smack._

_"You will have studied the readings so as to not waste my time."_

_Another step back._

_"You will not step foot in this lab and attempt to complete a potion you are not certain that you know. I should not have to remind you of the dangers of such idiocy."_

_The wall was coming closer now._

_"You will address me properly at all time and without hesitation."_

_Against the wall and cringing in anticipation._

_"If you do not meet my expectations as an apprentice," he grabbed the boy by the throat and pushed him up against the wall, " you will sorely wish you weren't bound to me for the next seven years. You will wish that I did not have the happy power to do with you whatever I wish."_

_There was fear in the boy's eyes, and something which was probably shock, and his shoulders were pulled up protectively. _

_He growled viciously when the boy reflexively tried to get his hands away from his throat, "Touch me again, Mr. Silver, try to hold me off and you'll be sorry indeed."_

The image faded away as it had the previous times. But Severus could not shake the way the boy's eyes closed then as he hit him. The manner very defeated. Nothing like the defiant and impulsive Osiris. It was troubling when it should not have been. He was right when he anticipated with Dumbledore that this would be very difficult to do.

The way the boy's shoulders closed in around his neck, the way he turned his body, the way he held his arms, the way his lips pursed, the way his brow furrowed.

Those brief images wouldn't stop flickering across his awareness.

Even the sound of his voice when he called Severus, 'Master.'

The whiskey wouldn't drown it out, he knew that for certain. It never had for any of his memories, even those that were much worse. The only things that would drown it out was discipline and clearing his mind. It would become easier, of that he was sure. It would meld into second nature, into his alter persona.

He only hoped that Osiris had the discipline to separate out the two himself, that his mental discipline was strong enough. Occlumency training would help. The boy could Occlude somewhat, but it remained to be seen how much they would have to achieve. Severus had a bad feeling that every minute they spent together was going to have to be a lesson in control.

After today, Severus knew that Osiris would need to learn to make his body language and his face and eyes unreadable. There were many things which could easily betray you to the Dark Lord and unfortunately that meant a lot of painful ground to cover in very little time.

A/N – I had a brief thought of naming this chapter 'getting in touch with your inner evil' but that just wasn't serious enough. Although, in reality, both of them are going to get in touch with a much darker side of themselves. This poses much more of a problem for Osiris because of reasons unknown to ya'll (except maybe linden, winks).

Review responses in the next update, I want to get this out. But I have one.

Emma – what is the turn that you do not like? It would be really helpful to know. Maybe more than one person feels like you. So let me know what it is please. I don't freakj out about negative stuff. ;-)


	26. Dual Sacrifices

Chapter 26

Dual Sacrifices

Bleary-eyed, Osiris stared at his vacant expression in the mirror. There were faint yellow bruises showing up on his face, but that was much better than the colourful ones on his neck and collarbone – which were quite black and blue.

He wondered if perhaps he should use a glamour charm to cover them up, but then decided against it. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing if people speculated about how he had received them. Undoubtedly, a large group of people would think they came from Snape, which was the whole purpose of this act anyway.

There was a large piece of him which found this easy and commonplace, indeed, he had fresh images in his mind of how much worse it could be. It was real knowledge and not simply his imagination supplying that realization.

Slowly, he rubbed his neck, remembering. He didn't recall much after the man had pressed him against the wall by the neck, and it wasn't because of any physical injury he knew. He wasn't even sure how many times the man slapped him. He shut down, completely, pathetically, as if it was happening all over again. As if it were a different man. As if it were really as bad as it could possibly get.

That would not do, it would not do at all.

He needed to be there, he needed to be aware, he needed to be in control at all times. He needed Balance.

People exploited weakness, and Voldemort was probably the biggest exploiter of weakness in the wizarding world. He would not be exploited.

He would also not do this on someone else's terms, no, he had his own ideas as well.

Professor Snape had already made it clear to him that the Dark Lord did not expect Osiris to come to him begging to join - that he had made Osiris seem very neutral with hopes that the Dark Lord would not be as interested in him.

Osiris was aware that the Professor had told the Dark Lord that he was difficult and headstrong, requiring a strong hand. While that was perhaps not far from the truth, it was far enough from the truth now due to Osiris' respect for Professor Snape. The Professor was strict with him, but until now had never hit him. If he was creating new memories that he would have to rely on, he would have to do 'headstrong' things which did require a 'strong hand' in the Dark Lord's opinion of what a 'strong hand' would be.

Professor Snape had said that a certain amount of strength and an absence of unwrangled fear would be very desirable to Voldemort. A certain amount of strength would lead to a greater amount of respect. It would most definitely lead to a greater amount of pain, a greater effort to break him, but it would lead to him being in a stronger position.

To Osiris it was also the only way that he could possibly get through this. He did not want to be a slave to anybody and knew that act would be too difficult for him. Pain he could take, and he knew it.

So, Osiris' own idea was to sell himself this way, to portray this rather convincingly. The more the Dark Lord wanted him, the safer he would be, and he was going to portray the sort the Dark Lord would want. But he also wanted to appear strong, independent, and unafraid.

He needed to start now.

Immediately, this would bring a lot of attention to himself, and would likely create a few dangerous enemies. Immediately it would likely bring the severe displeasure of his Master down upon him.

If he would going to deal with Voldemort after being defiantly, rather neutral, he could deal with Professor Snape.

It would be good practice.

It would also give him a chance to exact his personal revenge upon the person that ratted him out to McGonagall when he was in the closet with Lavender. He smirked at his uneven complexion, finding slightly too much enjoyment in this game.

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Disillusionment was a good tactical advantage that Osiris was grateful for. After being a target in Scyon, his old school, he had developed some habits of his own for defending himself and for gaining some little pieces of retribution.

He was a rather good stalker.

Draco Malfoy never saw it coming. Neither did Crabbe or Goyle.

Malfoy's two goons fell senseless to the floor before either of the three realized that spells were abound.

His blonde hair whipped around as he looked for his attacker, blue eyes fierce, wand out.

They turned wide with fear, much to Osiris' pleasure, when the wand flew out of his hand.

"I've been waiting for this for some time," Osiris said.

Malfoy turned to face his voice.

"Biding my time, waiting for you to let your guard down, thinking I was too scared to do anything about it, or ignorant enough to think I wouldn't figure out it was you."

"What are you talking about," he said, in fake bewilderment, but the fear and guilt was evidenced in his voice.

"You know very well," Osiris answered, silkily. "And you won't deign to do it again once I'm through with you."

Malfoy tried to bolt, but Osiris caught him with one hand on the smaller boy's chest and pushed him backward, barring his passage.

"You'll certainly be expelled, my father-."

"You're assuming I care, Malfoy. It's already happened once," he laughed snidely.

"You, you'll-."

"What? I won't graduate? I won't sit my NEWTS? Despite what you might think, Malfoy, I'm as pureblooded as they come and with the Gringotts account to back it. I don't need an active profession. So why should it matter?"

He sputtered incoherently, the fear growing so intensely that Osiris could feel it radiating off him. Rumors about how Osiris had gotten expelled from Scyon abounded, and they were even more dramatic that the real truth - and the real truth of what he had done to protect himself was enough.

"No witnesses by the way, Draco," he said, smirking, although Malfoy couldn't see the expression. "Whatever the consequences, it's worth it to cure your arrogance."

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Professor Snape frowned, looking at the battered, hexed, cursed form of Draco Malfoy in a bed in the hospital wing. He was found that way by Crabbe and Goyle when they had both woken up. They had no idea what had happened.

The Professor frowned, it was not as if the little ferret didn't deserve it, because he did. When he had been informed, Severus had wondered if Potter had possibly finally gotten the better of Malfoy, but the act itself was far too Slytherin to have been anybody but a Slytherin. Too carefully planned to have been the product of Gryffindor impulsivity, or idiocy.

His thoughts stopped as Malfoy stirred and then sat up in a panic. The mediwitch pushed him back down.

"Who did this Mr. Malfoy," Severus asked, his eyebrow raised.

"The Blood Traitor," he hissed.

Dumbledore, who had been standing in the background, feigning concern in Severus' opinion, said, "Who?"

But Severus knew to whom Draco was referring before Draco growled, his voice dry and pained, "Silver!"

He promptly passed back out.

Severus put a hand to his forehead.

Dumbledore frowned. "This is…" he could not finish his sentiment, he was so shocked.

This was nothing compared with the reports of things that had happened at Scyon, but he had never imagined anything such as this happening at Hogwarts. Students didn't just attack other students, even if this attack was not _that_ bad and it was a Malfoy.

"Isn't him, headmaster," Severus filled in, completing the headmaster's thoughts with completely different words. "It's what _you've_ forced him into."

"Excuse me, Severus?" he asked, offense in his voice.

"It's all part of it, all part of the act." He paused, "And not as stupid an action as it might seem. History…He's creating a history for himself, a history that he knows will go from Draco to Lucius, directly to the Dark Lord himself."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, clearly not a Slytherin cell in his body with which to understand any of the intricacies of what Severus did or what he had asked Osiris to do.

Severus knew he didn't approve, even if it was Draco Malfoy. The headmaster didn't know Osiris, didn't know that this wasn't real.

"I'm going to take care of this," he stated to the older man, "And you must do your part."

His response was the headmaster's eyes looking over the top of his spectacles.

"You must _prevent me_ from doing anything rash in _public_," Severus said. At the man's distant look, he made it abundantly clear, "Then we will go to your office. You will question him. There were no witnesses, so you will not expell him, but you will pull him from classes for two weeks for the suspicion. It will serve more than one purpose. It will give me more time to work with him. More time to teach him what he needs to know."

"Then what are you going to do, Severus, surely you aren't just going to let this go as collateral damage?"

"Malfoy will be fine, Silver is not that negligent. However, I will give the Slytherins something to see and report on."

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The Great Hall fell instantly silent as the doors crashed against he wall with a resounding bang to admit Professor Snape followed by the headmaster.

Severus brought an incensed look to his face, his eyes flashing with rage.

Students cringed as he passed.

To his credit, Osiris was looking mildly interested, but not at all suspicious or guilty. He even appeared shocked when Severus stopped by his lone place at the Slytherin table and even more shocked when Severus hauled him straight up out of his seat.

"How dare you," he hissed, then he added louder, "Merlin as my witness, I've never been angrier at a student from my own house."

Osiris gritted his teeth at the crushing pressure on his arm from the Professor's grip on him. He wasn't sure what the proper recourse of action was in this situation – to stay quiet or to protest his innocence. He knew that staying quiet was probably the smart option, but he also knew that if he were simply going on his initial reaction, if he really did not know Professor Snape well at all, he would protest his innocence.

"What?" he stuttered, frantically, "What did I do, Master?"

Severus tossed him backwards and then advanced upon him again, the headmaster looking on sternly.

"You attacked Malfoy!" He spat.

"What!"

When Severus went to grab him again, Osiris jumped nimbly back.

"Bloody hell I did!" He yelled defensively.

"You lying, disrespectful…" Severus pulled his arm back, his fist closed.

Osiris flinched and found his back against the wall. He was acting protectively, and convincingly.

"Severus, no,' Dumbledore said, his voice resonating. He began again when he was sure the man was not going to hit the Slytherin, "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus."

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The minute the Professor exited the gargoyle to the headmaster's office, he took advantage of the headmaster's absense, and grabbed the boy by the hair that was tied at the back of his neck.

"The Headmaster might not acknowledge that there is enough evidence to know how guilty you are, Mr. Silver, despite the fact this act reeks of your prior record, but I don't care how much evidence there is. While that old fool might see fit to do nothing but suspend you from classes for two weeks, I see fit to correct your lack of discipline."

"But, sir, I didn't _do_ anything!" Osiris exclaimed, before he mentally cursed himself for lapsing back into 'sir.'

"We'll deal with your lack of proper address and respect as well," he growled, "as soon as we get into the dungeons. And you'll learn exactly why it is fruitless to lie to me, Mr. Silver, and that will be a painful lesson indeed."

The boy didn't respond except for the painful intakes of breath that occurred at his hair being pulled on.

When Severus stepped down the last stair into the dungeons, knowing that after dinner there would likely be no one down here but other Slytherins, he released the boy's hair and tossed him so forcefully and abruptly backwards by the arm that he stumbled straight backwards onto the floor.

Osiris neglected to rub the back of his head where it had impacted the wall, because he was too concerned with standing back up. Being on the ground in this situation was not a good place to be.

There were other students around, not that either of the two paid them any attention.

_It's an act, it's an act, _Osiris repeated in his head in response to the fury that was being directed his way by the tall, looming, intimidating man_. It cannot be worse. Keep your head. Try to find some Balance. The Dark Lord will see this, act in kind. _

His heart was thumping in his chest. It was difficult for Osiris to control himself, to control his responses, his movements in a way that portrayed what he wanted to portray to Voldemort.

He had to stand up to Professor Snape, which was not his innate reaction. He had to allow the man the opportunity to rein him in, to gain control over him the way that Voldemort would have expected him to. This was an important memory.

His body desiring to move backwards as the man advanced upon him, Osiris stood there, chewing on the inside of his mouth, forcing himself to stand his ground.

Roughly, his chin impacted his collarbone as the man backhanded him.

His lip curling, he glared back as defiantly as he could manage, remember how he had acted when this situation had really happened for the first time in different circumstances. He remembered what had happened after he had protected himself for the first time after being attacked at Scyon. How he was angry that they did not believe him, how he had stood his ground until he _couldn't_ stand anymore.

Professor Snape growled, "Malfoy is my Godson, you ignorant, little whelp. You'll pay for what you did, for the attention you've brought to my House."

Osiris narrowed his eyes and said harshly and forcefully, "How easily you forget that he attacked _me _first, and I didn't retaliate with all those Mudbloods around from other houses to run straight to Dumbledore. I waited. I waited until there wasn't anyone around. The little coward got what he deserved. He's not worthy of being _anything_ to you. He presented me _no _problem. He's a _disgrace_ to your House!" He started backing up away from the Professor in order to get out everything he wanted to say before he man hit him again, or worse. "He is a disgrace to any pureblooded family with certain values. I certainly won't allow him to think he can best me. He paid for what he did to me."

"You don't even have a name to protect, Mr. _Silver._ You are by nature already a disgrace to everything pure blood represents. Malfoy, in his ineptness, will always be greater than you."

Osiris pushed the man backward after he was smacked again, and he quickly made up a good retort to that before the man smacked him again.

With venom, he stated clearly, "My father was a Death Eater. It's hardly my fault that my stupid, traitorous mother decided that I shouldn't be around that. She willingly gave the name up, _Master_, and despite my efforts to discern the information she was hiding from me, she died before I could tear the truth from her. All I learned is that my father was killed by aurors a long time ago!"

For a brief moment of mental lapse, Severus couldn't help but be impressed with that quick lie. In the same moment, he was also surprised by the way Osiris was fighting back. So this was going to be the breaking moment. Well enough, he chose a time when there was an audience to observe most of it.

"That father of yours apparently wasn't around to instill any fear, discipline, or respect in your whatsoever, boy. Perhaps you will learn exactly what having a Death Eater around to control you would have felt like. Despite what you are or what Malfoy is, there is one thing that you _will learn_. You will not disobey or disrespect _me_ as your _Master_."

Osiris' face was hot and stinging by the time the man stopped and glared at him, daring him to say anything further.

"Malfoy got what he deserved," he spat, answering the dare.

As the Professor went for his wand, Osiris noticed the fluidity of the movement, the determination, the anger. But, the second the wand was trained on him, he noticed the briefest flickers of hesitation. Osiris fully appreciated the fact that it would be difficult for the man to curse him or hit him with any spell.

He had to make it easier for him, had to put more wood into the fire.

"It's worth whatever you do to me to have seen blood trailing out of his tainted, part-Veela mouth."

The fire that burst forth from the Professor's coal-black eyes signified that was enough to get the first spell fired.

"_Batteuremus!"_

Osiris whipped his own wand out to counter, knowing this would be properly defiant.

"_Protego Castigres!"_

It countered, but he was forced to take a step back at the impact. A stronger block next time.

He was both surprised and shocked when _"Expelliarmus!" _was cast from behind him. So unexpected that he certainly didn't have enough time to turn around and block that before his wand soared from his hand. He did turn around enough to get a good look at fellow sixth year and prefect Blaise Zabini holding his wand.

Osiris was so shocked indeed that he didn't even hear Snape's next spell before it hit him painfully, square across his back, causing him to fly forward onto his stomach, skidding across the cold, stone floor.

"Thank you, Mr. Zabini, 20 points to Slytherin."

The stinging on his back was quickly followed by trickles of blood. This was one Osiris was not familiar with.

"Your welcome, sir," Blaise answered, looking rather self-satisfied, "After what he did to Draco, he has some audacity to raise his wand against you."

"The headmaster might not let me expell him, but I guarantee you, he will pay for what he did to Mr. Malfoy thanks to the power I have over him as my apprentice. That allows me to deal with this in the proper way, which I could not with a student. You have sped up that process."

Osiris made it up to his knee, on his way to standing back up, before the Professor said, "_Fligere!"_ in a way that was most pleased.

Osiris contacted the ground again hard, his face slamming the floor enough to draw blood from his lip. The same spell as before, only now he knew enough to know what it was, based upon his knowledge of Latin. Fligere was the origin of the action 'to flog.'

"You'll get yours, Zabini," he growled, lifting his head up.

"No, I expect you'll get yours, blood-traitor," Blaise laughed before walking off passed a few other Slytherins who seemed to be too entralled to leave.

Osiris was about to retort again when the same spell hit him again, tracing at least five new lines across his back to match the others, and closing his mouth into a tight grimace.

Before the next one hit him, he had the presence of mind to roll over and away.

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Professor Snape stared at his insolent, defiant face. The boy was making this easier, but he still felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest at his own actions. Yes, it was fading, but it was still there. By the time they were called, it could no longer be there. The Dark Lord would sense it and that could be a powerful weapon to hand over to the enemy.

The boy had just rolled out of the way, and was now half sitting, propped up on his elbows, a frown firmly planted on his face.

He cast the spell again, one that was familiar with him for many, many years, and not simply the casting of it.

The boy crossed his arms in front of him, and the spell slashed right through the sleeves of his robes. The only evidence of pain on his face was the way his cheeks pressed up, narrowing his eyes for just he briefest period of time after the spell hit him.

"I wouldn't be so eager to have the particular spell directed at the front of your body, Mr. Silver. _Fligere."_

Osiris tilted his upper body to the left and then retreated backwards on the floor, propelling himself with his heels and hands.

"A rather fruitless attempt to get away. Such things will only serve to anger me more."

The boy shrugged out of the robe that was hampering his movement, but Severus lamented that was rather a stupid action. More layers of clothes for the spell to go through before hitting his skin served to cushion its effects.

"_Fligere._"

This time, the spell hit the boy square in the shoulder as he tried to shift his upper body to the right. Then Silver rolled back over onto his knees and tried to get to his feet again. Osiris got one leg up and bent, one knee still on the floor before he cast it again, sending him back onto his hands and knees.

The Professor heard a sharp exhalation as the spell hit him again and then again.

"Finally being dignified and taking it like a man, Mr. Silver, instead of trying to crawl away?"

His reponse was somewhat of a growl, which wasn't satisfying at all. He renewed his spellwork.

When he stopped again, the boy's hair was a mess, having half fallen out of its tie at the back of his neck, and his back was rising and falling fast as the boy struggled to catch his breath.

Again, Professor Snape felt too much tightness in his chest, too much acid in his mouth. When he stopped, his mind had enough time to catch up, he wasn't carried by the moment by his alter persona.

Osiris' white uniform shirt was torn up on the back, blood soaking through it. He hoped the boy had the presence of mind…

"So, Mr. Silver, have we learned our lesson?"

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A/N

I gave you the new chapter early (before i got ten reviews). I was feeling nice. So if you haven't reviewed the last chapter either, I would appreciate your input on that chapter as well. These are all important chapters for me to have feedback because they are much different than the others. THANKS

Sorry for the cliffie. Don't worry I have the next one half written already and will post again after 10 more reviews. ;-)


	27. Painful Lessons

Chapter 27

Difficult Lessons

Osiris sucked in a breath. While this was not excruciating pain, or even close, he knew that it would be lasting. The sting would be present for a long time, a dull, annoying, and inconvenient reminder. It was painful, make no mistake, but not as painful as it could have been.

He bit his lip as a few more lines traced his skin. Apparently he hadn't answered fast enough.

"Do I need to renew my question?"

Osiris exhaled fast, "No."

Osiris knew that the man bristled, even not seeing his face, "Perhaps I need to renew the lesson," the Potions master said, no patience in his voice.

"No, Master," Osiris answered, a small hint of defiance still in his voice, although he did not want this to continue. He needed to get rid of the anger that fueled that last little bit of defiance. Professor Snape was being this way because he had to in order for this to work, in order for them both to make it out alive.

The toe of the man's boot found his stomach and pushed him over onto his side and then onto his back.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position, or as close as he could come to that, wincing. Every measure of his body felt the skin pull on his back, dragging the cuts open further.

Looking up into his Master's black eyes, he didn't even have time to realize that was a mistake.

The man invaded his mind painfully, flying through images until he rested upon the scene with Malfoy. Then other images, other images and memories which were much more painful.

His killing curse on his own mother. Her pleas with him to do it. His hollow feeling of anguish. His brother's fists on him.

The razor hot pain of curses being absorbed into his body as five boys laughed while he frantically tried to get away.

The sickening, grating voice of Professor Borohov. His eleven year old body being knocked to the floor. "You are as good as a Mudblood to us. Your word means nothing. Lies, all lies."

His own real voice pleaded, much deeper than it had as such a small child, as though he were really there, "No," then again much quieter, "No."

The headache that assaulted him as the Professor pulled out was immense. Even the dim light in the corridor caused him to narrow his eyes in pain.

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When he hit that last memory, Severus again felt an unfamiliar twinge of tension. He should not be seeing this, and he would not force it in this way. He had proven his point about Malfoy.

"You lie to me in the future, Mr. Silver, and as you now see, I will know and there is nothing you can do about it. Should you lie to me ever again, you can expect another lesson to follow."

Severus barely made out the weak, "Yes, Master," that exited his apprentice's mouth. His head was likely in pieces.

"I _will_ have your unfaltering obedience, and _if_ I have to repeat this lesson, you will find that I don't take kindly to repeating myself. You may have incomparable talent in Potions, but that does not mean I will deal with your imperfections or any disrespect."

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By the time Osiris made it to an Occlumency lesson, he found it difficult to lapse back into himself and to allow his mind to see the Professor as he really was.

When the man said "enter" and Osiris walked into his office, he felt himself tense as he stood there quietly waiting. He steeled himself for words or harsh looks that did not come.

Instead he was met with a clearing of the throat and an upturned eyebrow.

"You may have a seat, Mr. Silver."

With a hiss, he sat down, feeling the skin pull tight again. Without a word, he looked at the edge of the man's desk, not wanting a repeat raping of his mind or the headache that would follow.

"You need not look down to protect yourself," the Professor stated, flatly.

Osiris slowly raised his eyes, which were a sickening yellow-green colour, and replied, "Yes, Master."

The man raised his other eyebrow.

"I do believe that I informed you that we would be dropping the charade during our Occlumency time. I cannot teach you how to Occlude this way. Your manner is much too closed and defensive."

His lips at a sudden loss for words, pursed themselves together.

The Professor's eyes narrowed in response, "Perhaps I was wrong to assume that you could immediately relax into Occlumency."

Osiris' eyes followed his Master as the man got up out of his chair.

"Have you not healed yourself?" his Master asked, crossing his arms while standing in front of him.

"No, Master," he replied.

The man frowned, the ridge between his eyebrows growing deeper.

"You could have." He paused and then let out something which might have been a sigh of exasperation. "I will take care of it."

"It's fine, Master," Osiris said, shifting to keep his back pointing directly away from the Professor.

"It's not fine, Osiris."

The boy scowled, "It's not going to serve its purpose if you heal it straight away, Master."

"There was no purpose, as you call it, other than to create a memory. The memory was created, its purpose is served."

"It reminds me of that reality, Master, and right now I need that reminder. It's hard enough…" he didn't finish his statement. He continued, "Perhaps it is very easy for you to do this, especially go from one to the other, but it's not as easy for me. You've had much more practice."

"I am capable of doing it, Mr. Silver, but that does not mean that it is easy. It is not easy to do this with you, not easy at all. I said that by the time this was over you would regret your choice."

"I do not regret my choice, Master," he interjected, strongly.

"I understand this is difficult for you to do, difficult to take. I am pleased by your efforts and your ability, but I lament the fact that we have far yet to go."

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Professor Snape stared down as Osiris hit the floor, too weakened from holding up his mental defenses for ten minutes. He had encountered a wall, but it hadn't taken much offensive for him to push through it.

"You'll have to do better, Mr. Silver. Having the Dark Lord hit a wall like that will only prompt him to break it, and should that happen there is not much recourse. I cannot teach you to be a stronger Occlumens than the Dark Lord is a Legilimens. I can only teach you how to placate him into not trying to Legilimens you will all his force. You must make him think he is seeing everything."

Osiris looked up at him, rubbing his elbow in the process, and declined a response.

"That was, perhaps, an acceptable first effort. Now, once you have your block up, try to begin pushing memories forward. Look at me and imagine yourself back into those situations. That should help to push those memories forward. However, you must then be ready with another at all times. When you feel me sifting, you must push forward something else."

"Yes, Master."

When he entered Osiris' mind, it was a jumble of words and pictures. There were scenes of blood which seemed very unfamilir. There were also images of his angry face. There was a stinging feeling which could only have been his _fligere_ that he had cast.

He pulled back out.

Osiris sucked in a deep breath, and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Better," he said, but then he added, "You must invest more effort into each memory. They are not forming completely, as they would be if I had just happened upon them and made them form. What you are pushing forward is too weak. Again."

As Osiris met the Professor's eyes and felt him impose upon his mind, he imagined those eyes as they were earlier. He imagined the empty coldness of them. Pushing more of his effort into focusing on that memory, he played the scene back in his head, every word, every gesture.

In another instant, he felt the scene shifting. He frantically pushed something else forward. It wasn't a recent memory, but it would suffice. He remembered how the Professor had made him scrub the hallways one night many months ago.

That, too, did not last, and he was again pushing something new forward. He remembered their first meeting in Dumbledore's office.

The man pulled out, "You are trembling, Mr. Silver, from weakness. This is taking far too much strength out of you. You must appear no different than you would if you were simply standing there."

Osiris closed his eyes tightly, "I am trying."

Scowling, the Professor said, "Your suspension from classes has left you with much free time. You will practice meditating for four hours everyday. This is imperative or we will both be dead. You should be able to focus your mind in an instant, with no notice. You have come far out of practice of your druid ritual. You should have taken more care."

Looking down, Osiris nodded, "Yes, Master."

Then the professor looked at him meaningfully, "You will practice your wandless magic too, Mr. Silver. That will help to make you stronger, mentally, so that you can withstand your mind being violated without creating any outward symptoms."

He nodded again, knowing that he had far to go in a very short time, and he was very determined to do it.

"I can do better, Master," he said, looking up again.

The Professor scowled darkly, "Yes, you can, and you will, Mr. Silver. You will do as I say, and I will be testing you periodically throughout the day. You will need to be able to protect your mind at a moment's notice. Anything that I find there that shouldn't be there will be dually punished. Is that understood? As you said, I can very well and very easily switch between the two. I have done far worse things out of necessity than beat a seventeen year old boy, and although I do have some reservations in doing this with you, I know that in time it will not matter anymore. I know the consequences, and that overpowers the costs."

Sorry it took so long HBP really gave me a case of the OMG's and I didn't know whether or not to incorporate any of those ideas into this. So, I kinda lost track of what to do for awhile. I think I am basically gonna ignore events of HBP. Tho, I may at some point mention an idea or two. Thanks for sticking with me. We all get writer's block sometimes. Hope you all enjoyed HBP! I hope you all enjoy this. Please give me motivation and leave me a kind review. Pretty PLZ?


	28. Chapter 28

A/N - Sorry for the long wait. I promised I wouldn't abandon this. Busy year of getting a new job, getting promoted five million times, buying a house, I'm almost engaged. SIGH! It's been too long. Without further ado, here is a new chappie!

Two weeks of no classes, had left Osiris tired, worn, and pained. He had spent every moment of his time preparing, brewing, working, steeling himself.

Occlumency had been brutal, leaving him with raging headaches from countless hours of trying to protect his mind under all conditions.

As he laid in his bed that night, his bruised body cried out to him, but he didn't hear it at all. Hour of reliving pieces of his druidic rite had made the lessons come back to him quickly. His mind was blank save for the slow repeating of potions recipes in a slow, deliberate whisper.

Osiris barely slept, his colour-changing eyes rested on the wall. The time was soon, and there was no denial in that fact. It had already been three weeks.

Taking a breath, he allowed his mind to replay some of the memories that he had accumulated over the past few weeks. His ability to see them vividly at any time was important. If he had his Focus, he could nearly feel as if he was reliving them, and as painful as that was, he knew that it was necessary.

When he woke up the next morning at five, he gave in to the temptation to allow the hot water of a shower to pour over him, and it briefly made his body feel a little less battered.

His tall, lean frame was a bit thinner than it usually was. His belt was a notch tighter and his clothes looked a bit loose on him as he examined himself in the mirror. With practiced hands, he tied his tie, and then pulled his hair together at the base of his neck.

Darkness met his eyes as he exited his room, which didn't always mean that Professor Snape was sleeping or not present. He had found that the man had a tendency to dwell in the dark.

This morning, he was left to himself, or rather left to do everything that the Professor wanted without the man hawking him while doing it.

The potion's classroom was cold and empty when he opened the door. Methodically, he began preparing what needed to be prepared for the day's lessons.

When the door swung open, Osiris didn't startle as he used to. He was entirely focused on what he was doing, not that he didn't know that the Professor had made his entrance, but it wasn't going to effect what he was doing.

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Severus walked into the classroom an hour before lessons started for the day. He black eyes narrowed on his apprentice working towards the front of the room. It had become a second nature for him to slip into the persona he had to adopt by necesity, a difficult second nature, but a second nature none-the-less.

"Mr. Silver, I do hope you have graduated from following those simplistic recipes found in the textbooks I use for class? I expect your performance to be much more intuitive than the basic teaching of potions allows…"

He walked up to the cauldron and scowled, then leveled a glare at the boy.

"Pathetic," Severus growled. He grabbed the stir away from Osiris and pushed him back away from the cauldron. "Did it not occur to you that crushing the seeds with the flat side of your knife might allow the juices to be released into your potion more easily. It is almost always so with anything very fibrous."

Osiris shook his head, "No, master."

Allowing anger to bubble up inside of him was so easy. With a sharp snap, he whacked Osiris on the side of the head with the stir.

Instinctively, Osiris raised his hand to the budding lump on his head.

Nearly baring his teeth, the Professor smacked the boy's hand with the instrument as well.

"If you are so intent on not using your brain, Mr. Silver, I can find other things to occupy your time with other than making potions…Making potions is something that is generally reserved for the competent apprentice. Would you like for me to relegate you to cleaning and preparing my ingredients for the remainder of the school year?"

Severus raised an eyebrow as the boy looked down and answered, "I'll do whatever you wish me to do, Master."

The man raised the other eyebrow, slightly surprised that the boy had offered up that answer.

"I wish for you to finish this potion up to standard, Mr. Silver. I wish to think that I have not wasted precious time on teaching you. I wish for you to forget whatever recipe it was that you memorized for making this, and I wish for you to employ your knowledge of potions to perform an accurate representation of this potion to a higher standard than what these authors can put in books for these little ignoramuses to copy. Is that understood?"He boomed, slamming the handle of the stir back into the boy's hand.

"Yes, master."

He turned to go to his desk, but then stopped and turned around on a second thought, "Now begin again, and if you disappoint me, you'll regret being such a substandard apprentice."

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"Enter."

Slowly, Osiris opened the door to Professor Snape's office, knowing that he was entering neutral territory at the moment, because this was their Occlumency lesson. It was the one time they were guaranteed to have a momentary break for the false reality they were forced to live.

The man's black eyes hit him for a moment before the man looked back down and finished straightening his desk.

"An admirable job this morning, Mr. Silver, of improving upon that simplistic recipe in the textbook. I'd wager you could have done even better under different circumstances."

Nodding, Osiris responded, "Thank you, master."

The Professor nodded, still not looking up.

Osiris now could go back and forth between calling the Professor "sir" or "professor" as well as calling him "master." Even though he used the last address most often now. But when they were in Occlumency, even when he used "master" it had a different tone to it than when they were performing their falsehoods.

When the man looked up, Osiris was ready for a possible attack, but it never came. Instead, the man sat down at looked him over with a slightly critical eye.

"Your ability to occlude has progressed quite well. I think it highly likely that under more average circumstances, you will be able to protect yourself from the Dark Lord. Or, at least, he will not feel inspired to dig deeper…Are you well worn tonight, Mr. Silver?"

Osiris cocked his head to the side briefly before he answered, "Slightly more than usual, yes, sir."

He was not entirely shocked when the man chose that moment to shout "Legilimens!"

But, Osiris was ready. He stood there and fed straight into the man, giving him a memory from last week that was particularly harsh.

They did this a few times before the Professor stopped and stared at him, his wand drawn.

Osiris frowned, sensing something was different, strange even.

The Professor frowned as well, almost a pained expression crossing his sallow features.

"There is one more thing that we need to do, Osiris, to prepare."

Raising an eyebrow at the enigmatic statement, Osiris responded, "What is that, sir?"

The crease between the man's brow deepened, "I need to ensure that you will be able to hold up this front after being in considerable pain. We have no way to anticipate whether he might try to use legilimency on you before or after he's…"

Osiris raised the other eyebrow.

"Just do it, Professor."

The man scowled, "I need to want to, Mr. Silver, in order for this to have the intended effect. I can guarantee you that the Dark Lord's is much more potent than mine even on a bad day."

It was Osiris' turn to scowl, "I can take it, sir. It's been done to me before, plenty of times, actually," he added, his voice growing a bit quieter.

The Professor's eyes narrowed, his wand still held up, but no clear sign that he was going to incant a spell anytime soon.

In a flash, Osiris held his wand out, and he took a step forward. His tone deep and serious, he said, "If you don't do it to me first, sir, I'll do it to you, and don't think that there won't be enough power behind it. Merlin as my witness you've given me enough ammunition to put behind this spell these last few weeks for me to really want to do it."

Severus glared at him.

Osiris glared at him back, and then opened his mouth to do what he had said.

"Crucio!" The Professor was simply that much faster.

As the first wave of pain hit Osiris, he was somewhat ready. He had been able to push himself into his druidic meditative state and that protected him, somewhat, from feeling the full effects of the curse.

The Professor didn't hold it for very long, but when he had finally released it, Osiris had bitten the inside of his mouth clear through.

He licked his lips with a somewhat bloody tongue and then leaned forward reaching for the end of the man's desk.

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Professor Snape stared into the bloodshot amber eyes of his young apprentice, astounded for the moment that the boy had managed not to fall over shrieking in pain from the curse.

A deep pit in his stomach began to form, because he knew what this sort of resistance meant. It mean that Mr. Silver had been exposed to this curse before, and it wasn't entirely likely that all of the exposure had been during the boy's Rite of Passage.

"Well met, Mr. Silver," was all he could manage to say.

The tall, dark man knew that they would have to do exercises like this repeatedly now, and that was something he would dread. It was necessary for the boy to be able to hold up his mental defenses, even after being exposed to curses. If the boy's defenses were going to break down during pain, they had little hope of fooling the Dark Lord for very long, because it wouldn't be very long until Voldemort put the boy through some pain. It was simply the way that he operated.

Reviews are much appreciated, especially after being gone for so long! I like to know who is still out there reading. And of course, reviews generally make me update faster!


	29. Drawing Near

Walking rather soundlessly over the stone floor, Osiris watched as students in the Professor's NEWT class prepared one of the more simplistic potions in the curriculum. Having already done this potion many times up to the Professor's standards, Osiris was relegated to assissting.

He gave an appreciative glance Hermione Granger's way, her potion of course excellent. But, secretly, Osiris lamented the fact that she would not get better. The girl was a by the book brewer and that would always hold her back. She would never be able to do anything more than follow the instructions.

If Professor Snape actually invested some time into her tutelage, she could be an top notch brewer. She might not have the intuition yet, but she was capable. Of that Osiris was certain.

The tall boy gave a small smile Lavender Brown's way and then made his way to the other side of the room.

A smug look began playing on his pale face as he looked at Draco Malfoy's potion. The boy had not the precision nor the tact to be a capital brewer. He exhibited a bit more intuition than Miss Granger, but that was likely because he had a disregard for rules in general. Even those found in a book.

"Sod off, Silver," Malfoy jeered at him. "Go play slave to Professor Snape elsewhere."

Osiris raised an eyebrow, "If you minded your potion as much as you minded the mundanely ridiculous you wouldn't have a soup for a potion that strangely resembles-."

"Mr. Silver! Assissting in class does not mean antagonizing my best students," Professor Snape bellowed, grabbing his apprentice by the upper arm and pulling him away. "If you lack the maturity to handle such an assignment, I shall have to occupy your time elsewhere. I do not give you the responsibility of assissting me in order for you to make it more difficult for me to run my class by needed to watch over you and discipline you as well."

The tight grip on his upper arm beginning to make his hand tingle, Osiris nodded.

"It won't happen again, Professor."

For a brief moment, the grip tightened, if even possible. "No, it won't, because you will not be assissting me any longer. Your impulsivity and disrespect have ruined your opportunity. I expect much higher standards of behavior out of an apprentice, Mr. Silver, in case you haven't already realized. Perhaps I should have been wiser, knowing what sort of a background you come from."

Biting his lip, Osiris looked down for a moment. Only to be shaken by his arm.

"I expect you to answer me when I am talking to you, perhaps something we shall have to discuss later. I do not have the time to discipline you for being so daft, consider yourself lucky. You can spend the remainder of the class session correcting the mistakes on those third year essays on my desk, and if there are any that you don't catch at your level, I might just have to find something more suitable for a peon like you to handle. And perhaps you will find scrubbing the floors after Mr. Malfoy and the rest of the class finish up their 'soup' of a potion an enlightening experience about your position."

Swallowing for a brief second, Osiris' eyes narrowed a bit, betraying a bit of anger, before he responded, "Yes, master."

As soon as Professor Snape moved away, Malfoy chuckled and then retorted, "At this rate, Silver, you are going to be serving Professor Snape for the rest of your life because you are never going to be competent enough to become a Master and dissolve the binding magical contract of signing yourself over to study under him."

Osiris stopped for a brief second and fought hard against the desire to retort something that was most definitely going to earn him a sound beating later.

Taking a deep breath, he continued walking back up to the Professor's desk and took up the quill. Standing by the man's desk, his slanty and curvy script began tracing over the first unfortunate bloke's essay.

Just barely, he picked up the sound of a slight growl.

"Mr. Malfoy, cease running your mouth and concentrate on your potion. It is beginning to look like soup and that is hardly up to my standard for you."

Osiris fought back a chuckle and kept his eyes firmly focused down on the papers. Every once and awhile, the Professor did something which illustrated for Osiris, and probably for Osiris alone, just exactly where everyone stood in his eyes.

After an hour of tediously grading essays, his finger were cramping up a bit, but he was finally finished. There was enough red ink all over that he had almost completely rewritten each essay. Instead of asking Professor Snape for something else to do, he walked down from the desk and began silently putting away and organizing all of the ingredients that had been taken out for class.

Sweating enough to make his face glisten and to make his tightly drawn collar wet, Osiris watched Professor Snape begin the first stages of making Wolfsbane. The heat was so hot that Osiris wasn't sure how Professor Snape could stand it in all of his high collared, thick clothing. As it was, simply wearing his uniform and robe with his tie still around his neck was killing him.

"Mr. Silver, what are the properties of Devil's claw which make it a useful ingredient in this potion," the man asked him, as he usually quizzed him during these times.

Amber eyes looking into the Professor's concentrated face, Osiris answered, "It is a potent anti-inflammatory and analgesic that is one component of what eases the pain of transformations, master."

Without looking up or giving any feedback, the Professor continued.

"And what other components are present in this potion which work with that ingredient?"

Standing perfectly still, hands folded behind his back, "Dried Nettles, powdered, chickweed, eyebright, an infusion of rosehips, and sage."

A small nod here, which was enough to make Osiris raise a black eyebrow.

"And what are the proper names for those ingredients?"

"Err, Harpagophytum procumbens, urtica dioicia, stellaria media, euphrasia officinalis, rosa canina, and salvia officinalis, master."

A slight raising of the man's intense face and a curt reply followed, "You dissertations could do without the colloquial and improper errs and umms, and it is urtica dioica, Mr. Silver. Take a moment to prepare an answer in your mind and don't waste my time and concentration. Think again and let me know what you are missing."

"Yes, sir."

Osiris bit his lip and looked down into the potion, watching the man work seemlessly and fluidly. Professor Snape demanded perfection, whether he was in his real persona or the other. His responses to imperfection were what changed only ever so slightly between the two.

"Meadowsweet, master, filipendula ulmaria."

"You are beginning to convince me that you have half a brain, boy," he replied. "And what is the second most important ingredient in this potion to Wolfsbane?"

Considering for a brief moment, Osiris answered, "Hawthorne Berry or Ginecic Acid from the root of the ginkgo tree, sir, um, but if I had to chose, I'd say Hawthorne berry."

The scathing look he received was enough to make him bow his head when he realized that he had just delivered another um and another indecisive answer.

"I don't know, master," he said, "I won't waste your time with a guess."

Professor Snape scowled and sprinkled in a bit of powdered nettle.

"If I had the luxury at the moment of dealing with your idiocy without ruining this potion, I would. However, if you were to trust your intuitions Mr. Silver, you would fare much better. Confidence is of the utmost importance, if you are right so much the better. If you deliver a blatantly wrong answer simply be willing to accept the consequences. You will never be right with two answers, no matter how well you can explain away your indecisiveness to the decision. You are setting yourself up to look like a fool and to entertain my displeasure. Is that understood?"

Osiris nodded, thankful that this potion was too important for him to find himself with a lump on the head from being smacked with a silver stir. "Yes, master."

"Now, why do you say Hawthorne Berry as opposed to the Ginkgo parts when the most central part of this potion is it's ability to keep the drinker in a rational mind."

The tall Slytherin prepared his answer in his head before he said anything.

"Hawthorn Berry is a circulatory and heart tonic, and stimulates increased blood flow, especially to the limbs and to the brain. Without this ingredient, the others would not be able to serve their function within the afflicted. I believe the Ginkgo would be a secondary incredient to this, mainly because Hawthorne also works to deliver relief from the pain of the transfomations by speeding other ingedients to the limbs and also controls the maintenance of consciousness."

For a long moment the man didn't answer him and when he blatantly dropped the stir, it became apparent why.

Professor Snape was clutching his forearm. The Dark Mark.

Osiris' heart felt like it stopped, a large baseball feeling like it was lodged in his throat. It was time.

The man fled from the room and he heard him flooing the headmaster as he stood there petrified. He came back clutching a bundle of black clothing.

"Come, Mr. Silver, it's time."

Osiris nodded, but it wasn't until the man grabbed him by the shoulder that he started moving.

"Are you certain-."

"Yes, master," he replied suddenly, words flying out of his mouth. He found a black cloak being thrust into his hands.

"The more you have to hide yourself behind the better, although I doubt he won't want to get a good look at you. There is a mind-strengthening potion in the pocket. Take it and then throw the bottle on the grounds before I apparate us."

Osiris followed the instructions wordlessly.

The time had finally come.


	30. Passive Defiance

The night was still very cold and Osiris pulled the cloak closer around him either from chill or from nerves. There was a quietness in the air that made it nearly possible for Osiris to hear his heart beating in his chest. As his feet worked to keep him right behind the Professor's left shoulder, he began forcing his mind to relax.

Osiris knew that he'd have to be perfectly able to enter his druidic meditative state at a moment's notice. He knew he couldn't keep himself there the entire meeting, but being able to use it when he needed it would be incredibly important. It would help strengthen his mind if the Dark Lord tried to Legilimence him and it would help to dull and numb the pain if the Dark Lord tried to do anything to him physically.

The sound of Professor Snape's breathing next to him was somewhat of a comfort. They had a bit of a walk to get to where they could apparate safely.

Suddenly the man's voice cut into the air, and Osiris felt a hand on his arm. When he shook off the preoccupation in his mind, his amber eyes fixed onto Professor Snape's, who was now standing right in front of him.

"My last cautions to you, Mr. Silver. Do not say more than what is necessary. Do not offer anything in the way of information. I trust your judgement, but I have seen far too many turn into babbling idiots in front of the Dark Lord. Look at him and see a man, not that which he has outwardly become. Try not to let appearances intimidate you. Steel yourself and remember to keep the air of someone strong and neutral. That is what he is expecting."

Osiris nodded, watching the stream of air leave his nostrils into the coldness of the nght.

"We've discussed already that he thinks you are the type that requires a heavy hand, so he will not expect you to be very obseqieous neither will he expect you to completely disregard who and what he is. It will be difficult for you, this meeting, and likely very painful. He will try to break you, of that I am quite certain. Appear to keep an open mind about what he says to you and realize that although he might seem displeased with the fact that you are not as willing as a participant as he might hope and do not cower before him like he is used to, being so will gain you more of his regard in the long run. Every man in power has minions to do his bidding and then he has those whom he regards as the more useful men in his employ. You want to be someone whom the Dark Lord is going to regard as singular, difficult to replace, useful, and worthy. You want to be someone he views as being in his employ, not someone he regards as an expedible minion. He is and was a Slytherin, he values ambition...Are you ready?"

Nodding again, Osiris responded, "Yes, master, as much as I can be."

They walked for another short while, past the boundaries of Hogwarts. Professor Snape touched his shoulder, and in an instant they had apparated.

The presense of the new moon assured that it was quite dark outside, and the first thing Osiris senses picked up was the old smell in the air. It was a smell that reminded him of death. When his eyes began adjusting, he new why. They were gravestones around them in the distance. The presence of dozens of other black figures wearing ghastly masks, signified to Osiris that they were likely the last to arrive.

It was with that thought that he finally noticed the tall, thin figure in the center of the circle, talking to one of the other masked men.

Osiris didn't want to dwell for too long, so instead of paying complete attention to that which didn't concern him, yet, he began meditating. Thinking of rivers and streams branching out through rolling hills of green grass.

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The Dark Lord's red eyes cut through the darkness as another figure, two figures, apparated into the more central part of the circle. He nodded slightly, having already had slight thoughts that Severus would not show with the boy.

Turning back to Lucius, "We shall see, my friend. Half-blood or blood traitor though he may be, there is obviously something in the boy which Severus has appreciated. Knowing Severus' tastes that piques my interest you could say. If Severus believes him useful to him, I believe that he could also be useful to me. Of course, I do value your sentiment," he said saccharinely.

He nodded and Lucius apparently knew it was his dismissal from their private conversation.

Turning his attention back to the other of his Death Eater, the Dark Lord began walking the perimeter of the inside of the circle.

"Well, my servants, the recent demise of a certain Miss Narrow, former auror, and of Miss Blains, former auror, have given me cause for some measure of pleasure. Those of you who have aided in those ventures have been duly rewarded...I am vexed with our lack of ground in getting closer to members of Dumbledore's Order and general band of misfit followers. There will be some changes in leadership in the future for our endeavors in that area. Some whom have continually risked my displeasure will not be capable of doing much for quite some time. Perhaps a few of you can prove yourselves more useful than in the past."

The Dark Lord paused to look closely at a select few people, whom to his immense satisfaction, bowed their heads almost immediately.

He pulled the mask off one roughly, and he promptly fell to his knees.

"A disappointment I will not continue to have in my more tenured Death Eaters, eh Temereau," he said down to the man.

"I will serve you in whatever way you wish, master," the man replied to him.

"You will serve me well by not failing!" he bellowed. "Crucio!"

The screams and writhing that followed only served to make him chuckle. Like a little bug being crushed under his shoe, he clung violently to life.

Voldemort lowered his wand.

"Perhaps I will reward the more successful by letting them have sport with you?" He said, in a contemplative manner. "Nothing to say?" He replied, chuckling as the man fought to breath through the blood in his lungs. "I will keep that in mind."

He began walking again and as he was talking, slowly made his way back to the epicenter of the circle.

"And, of course, some among you prove to be more slippery than others, but yet serve me well and obey me unquestioningly..." he paused for a moment and then his eyes found the man he was speaking about in particular. "Come, Severus, what have you brought for me?"

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Osiris heard his master's name and took a breath through his nose, preparing for it to begin. He was calmer than he thought he would be, but it was still very surreal.

He waited for his master to get a few feet in front of him and then followed behind him at a respectful distance off his left side.

Osiris didn't look down as the man knelt before the Dark Lord, nor was he able to make out what his master said to the powerful wizard. It wasn't until the Professor stood again that he could make out anything.

"Is this the boy, your prodigal apprentice?"

His master nodded, "Yes, my lord."

"And did you have any troubles persuading him to come."

"He knows that it is beneficial to him to do as he is ordered when he is so reminded, even though he can sometimes be quite daft," he said in a sinister sort of a voice that cut right through Osiris.

The Dark Lord waved his hand at the Professor, who promptly moved to the side.

Osiris felt the man's eyes on him, roughly, but stood there unmoving and silent with his hands flat at his sides, waiting.

The man made a few steps towards him, "Come here, boy."

Osiris moved to within three feet of him and then stopped. Not particularly wanting to get any closer than he had to.

"Closer," the man ordered, pointing a long, thin finger at the ground in front of him.

Exhaling he moved up to where he was told, close enough now to see the strange snake-like nose and inhuman appearance of the Dark Lord.

Those red eyes began creeping over him, especially his face and his eyes, appraising him. Osiris simply kept looking forward, even if that meant looking into those unnatural eyes despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to look down, which he did once or twice... Or even to kneel down. The mere presence of the power of the man actually made him want to be subservient because he knew the man could easily crush him and would if he so desired.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Silver, sir, Osiris Silver," he answered, pushing back a desire to bite his lip or fidget.

The man actually gave him a crooked and rather frighteningly amused smile.

"An Egyptian first name with a decidedly bland last name. Are you part Egyptian?"

"Yes, sir, more than half from what I understand."

Another amused smile, as if the man was momentarily indulging him.

"A powerful race of wizards, Egyptians, with very ancient magical knowledge, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

The man actually chuckled slightly here, "And what about you Mr. Silver?"

"I claim to have no extraordinary knowledge or power, sir. I only know how to read, write, and speak as related to my cultural background," Osiris responded carefully, his words coming out slowly and deliberately.

"Then how did you come by having the ridiculous surname of Silver? What sort of a name is that?"

"I could not tell you, sir, it is not of any background, it is a pseudonym."

"A pseudonym, do you not see fit to supply me with your real name?"

This statement sounded a bit more cross and a bit less amused than the previous statements. The Dark Lord's slit-like nostrils appeared to flare. Osiris prepared for some sort of pain to follow, but it never did.

"No, sir. I would readily supply you with it if I had such knowledge myself," he said, nodding his head down a bit.

The thin man began circling him dangerously and Osiris felt as if he was being weighed, measured, and calculated.

"How is it that you do not know such an important piece of information if you are of pure blood?"

Osiris allowed a slightly vexed look to come over his face and he said, quite sourly, "My mother thought it best if she left my father for fear of what sort of a life her family was to have, sir. She, of course, thought it best if she hid her identity and that of my father from us, lest we might want to seek him or the reminants of his family out. He was murdered by aurors shortly after we left I am told, sir, but my mother is most unfortunately dead now, so despite my best efforts I shall never know."

Now if that wasn't a convincing lead in, Osiris didn't know if he could possible hope to do better. He wanted to pique the Dark Lord's interest about his father and having a Death Eater for a father was certainly something which might make him a bit more desirable to the man.

"Murdered by aurors you say?"

The man stopped in front of him once again.

"Yes, sir. He was one of your Death Eaters, and my idiot mother didn't like that and thought we'd do better as outcasts, sir."

A bit more venom there as well. It was playing out all right in Osiris' mind.

The Dark Lord appeared amused again, and his brow furrowed purposefully.

"Then I do not understand why Severus reports that you are not sympathetic to our cause."

"My master is correct, sir, however, I simply do not have much a mind either way."

"You would seem to have cause to, Mr. Silver."

"Perhaps, sir, and perhaps I would if I didn't hate most purebloods just about as much as I hate the Muggles and the Mudbloods to which I was compared and treated like."

"You seem to hate everyone then, Osiris. Even those who are of pure blood like yourself. Your kindred?"

Another chuckle cut through the thin air, and it made Osiris shiver again.

"Yes, sir, even them. They tortured me and went after me for being less than them, sir, and that hardly lends itself to any warm feelings of kinship."

Osiris was beginning to be a bit frightened of the way that the Dark Lord would chuckle dangerously at his responses like he was only a momentary amusement to be tolerated for only so long.

The Dark Lord suddenly reached out and pulled the hood of his cloak down, his eyes narrowing a bit. The amusement of the audience was quite apparently over. Those red eyes locked onto his amber ones and the man reached out and grabbed his chin forcefully between his spidery hand.

"Are you not afraid of me, boy?"

"No, sir," was what came out when he really wanted to say that he was yes.

"You are one of few, and that could prove quite foolish. Why are you so unafraid?" He asked, pushing Osiris' face away and letting his chin go.

Osiris swallowed and looked down a bit, slowly forcing himself to look back up.

"I am not afraid of death, sir, I have very little left to live for, and I have been tortured before, sir. I do not know what else I should be afraid of."

That was a hard statement to say with the greyish drawn skin and unhuman face right in front of his. He was afraid and the Dark Lord could probably pick up on the fact that his statement wasn't entirely truthful, no matter how hard he was occluding.

To say he wasn't prepared for the powerful Dark Lord to smack him instead of cursing him was a bit of an understandment. It was so hard, his chin impacted his collarbone.

"Why did you come here?" The man demanded suddenly, his face coming even closer.

"My master ordered me, and I am bound to obey him, sir," he said bowing his head a bit.

"You came here to learn what you had to be afraid of, boy, and you came here to know what you were born to..." he paused and nearly growled. "Severus!"

The Professor, who had been looking and listening on from a few feet away closed the distance between himself and his own master.

"Yes, master," he said.

His voice taking on a deadly sort of a hiss, the Dark Lord demanded, "Tell me why I should not rid myself of your valued apprentice."

"I would not stand in the way of your wishes, my master, but I would not deign to have lied to you about the boy's demeanor. I have supplied you with what you asked for. The boy is flawed and needs more than one good lesson, but he is intelligent, strong, and ambitious. I daresay he will even grow to be quite powerful, my lord, with the proper guidances. You have only to bend him to your will, to allow him to see the errors of his thinking, to let him know what you have to offer." His master offered the Dark Lord a slight bow.

"Remind him of his place then, Severus, lesson him. I have only a small temperment for amusements and although his passive sort of defiance amuses and intrigues, I have little desire to deal with such things," he said with a wave of his hand. "I want to see how intelligent he really is."

With a nod, Osiris' master turned his eyes on him, and for the first time Osiris got a good look at them through the mask. Instantly he knew that the man had no troubles going into his second persona, because those cold eyes conveyed nothing to him other than an extremely short fuse and an excess of anger.

88888

Severus Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously like canons piercing through the air straight into his daft apprentice. He advanced on the boy with purpose and backhanded him so hard across the face three times in quick succession that he had the boy on the ground in less than thirty seconds.

"You will not make me out to be a fool, Mr. Silver," he said pulling out his wand and stalking up to him before he could move away.

With a strong kick to the ribs and chest, he sent his apprentice onto his back on the ground fighting for air that did not want to come.

The boy rolled over onto his hands and knees and coughed, the shock of being kicked wearing off his lungs.

"Do you dare disrespect the Dark Lord?"

The boy gasped and rasped out, "No master. I have great respect."

Another kick to his side sent him sprawling over again.

"You are daft, boy, if you think you can act that way to your master's, master," he pushed the boy over onto his back again with the toe of his boot. "It isn't simply your life, it is mine, and that should give you cause to be afraid. You are quite aware of what I tolerate and do not, and I do have the happy power of making your life completely miserable for as long as I so desire, provided the Dark Lord keeps you alive. And the promise of that sort of life is something to be a bit more afraid of than death. What you have seen of me is nothing compared to what I can become, especially far out of that old fool Dumbledore's reach."

The Dark Lord cut into his exact plans with a, "Bring him back over here before me, Severus."

Angrily he reach down and pulled the boy up by the collar and forearm and pushed towards the red-eyed man roughly.

Not having recovered from being kicked in the ribs and side, his apprentice fell right over clutching his stomach slightly and heaving still.

8888

The Dark Lord chuckled as Severus went after the boy and just when he was getting warmed up to give the boy a lesson he wouldn't likely forget soon, the man decided that he would much rather give it to him than allow Severus the pleasure.

Oh, yes, he would break the boy. And it would be worth the effort.

Looking down at the young man on his knees in front of him gave him a bit of a thrill even if it was only because Severus had beaten him up a bit so that he couldn't easily stand.

"You have given yourself quite readily to Severus Snape's service boy and from my understanding have endured his displeasure quite frequently. Tell me why you can make a choice to serve him?"

"His knowledge is invaluable, sir,"the boy choked out.

He wanted so very badly to look into the boy's face so that he could see his reaction to his next words.

"Get up," he ordered.

Albeit with a little difficulty, Snape's apprentice managed to straighten himself out, although he kept his head bowed a bit as he still fought for all the air he needed. Thick, black hair obscured the boy's face from his view.

"I have taught Severus a great many things, and should you prove worthy of it, I could be persuaded to teach you a great many things as well. However, I do not yet see what your master sees in you."

The boy's face was strained but still held a bit of pride in it, something that he knew was the mark of someone who was strong and intelligent. It was not a question of if, but when, when he could bend the boy to his ways, he would perhaps be an asset.

It was all a question of the bending now.

"If your master would leave you the choice, would you consent to serve me, Osiris?"

He heard a sharp breath before the answer, "No, sir." And the boy shook his head negatively.

Shaking his head a bit, the Dark Lord raised his wand, "You are a very stupid boy, but at least you do not lie to me." He paused, savoring the moment before he sent this thin, tall apprentice of Severus' into waves of intense pain like that which he'd never imagined.

It was that moment where he held his power at bay but yet knew he was going to use it that gave him a moment of exhileration.

"Crucio!"

The immediate way the boy's face screwed up made the him smile in anticipation of the first scream which could only follow by a few seconds at most.

When it didn't come, he stared at the boy's body as it shook, a feeling of curious surprise coming over him, followed by a wave a dissatisfied anger. When the boy finally fell over onto his knees, he expected screaming again.

There was blood coming down the boy's nose now and from the corner of his mouth. And the Dark Lord finally understood what Severus could possibly have seen in the boy that made him apprentice him.

He lifted the spell and narrowed his red eyes, watching keenly as the youth put his hands flat on the grass and leaned forward, his back and chest heaving.

"I want to get a look at him, Severus. Take off that blasted cloak."

Suspicion covered him now. And he would have his answers. As Severus left the boy in just his shirt and tie and trousers, he got a clearer view of the boy spitting up blood on the grass. After a few moments, Osiris was pulling his hands off the grass and straightening up, but still not getting up. Either because he could not or because he knew better than to at this point. Perhaps he was a bit of a quick learner, if only a little slow to warm up.

The Dark Lord smiled at his blood-stained face, and he laughed slightly as the boy licked his lips and then spat blood onto the grass again.

"That is what my displeasure tastes like at it's most serene, Mr. Silver," and then he reached forward and grabbed the boy by the collar.

He pulled it away from his neck and his eyes went wide as his suspicions were confirmed, a rune tattoo. A druid, another druid, clear as day. No others but druids had ever resisted the Cruciatus with so much success. It was a rather clear give away, especially after he had discovered this about Severus.

Turning on his follower, he raised his wand at Severus, "Crucio!"

He waited for Snape to fall to the ground too, which was never too fast, and then said, "How could you attempt to hide from me that he is a druid as well, Severus? That was a stupid mistake and for that insolence you will surely pay."

His pleasure at torturing Snape, was interrupted.

"Please, sir, my master did not know."

Pulling his wand off of Snape, he rounded on the boy once more. "Did your master not tell you not to speak unless you were spoken to?"

Another strong wave of satisfaction passed over him when the 'boy who called him sir' bowed his head.

"Crucio!" Severus had thrown the curse on the half crumpled form of the once very defiant Mr. Silver before he could manage to do so himself.

He entertained it with amusement for only a moment. "Enough Snape, we don't want to ruin any sport for later by ruining him too much. As it is you can have your way with him whenever you want as he does belong to you."

A small smile playing on his face, he watched keenly as the boy pushed himself off the ground again.

Slowly, he reached down and tilted the boy's chin up, looking into his face. Went he felt a shiver through Silver's skin his devious smile intensified.


	31. Fading Away

* * *

Chapter 31 

Fading Away

The feeling that went through his entire body when the man touched him was at the same time horrific and exciting. The raw power both painful and tantilizing - like the moments before having an orgasm.

It confused Osiris and made him shudder visibly. How could he possibly be responding like this? How could his body possibly betray his emotional feelings and go completely against them? How was it possible that his brain was feeling hazier...His lungs were still struggling, gurgling from fluid, blood caught in them. His own laboured. Raspy breaths assaulted his ears, coming hard and fast light a freight train. And one growing closer.

In a moment of desparate clarity, Osiris finally understood what was happening, the Dark Lord was intentionally making him feel this pleasure. He understood how the rewards of this could be addictive. Everything could simply fade away. Shutting his eyes tightly, he clung onto that feeling of mental clarity and tried to banish he feelings of arousal. Opening his eyes, he focused on the blood on the ground before him, dark, thick. His blood. And he waited for the next waves of pain to come from somewhere.

As the Dark Lord released him, Osiris gasped as if a piece of his body had suddenly been cut off. He choked for air. The end of the pleasure was certainly pain, as if it were an afterimage of what had been.

"He is an intersting and infuriating specimen, Severus. Perhaps I should have expected nothing else from you. You have pleased me, my servant, offering him up to me."

"I obey you in all things," his master responded.

The dark lord touched him once more, renewing the waves of painful pleasure through his body.

He cringed, sweat rolling down his face, some stinging in his eyes.

"I feel much potential within him - much unused power. From a very good heritage, name or no name."

Osiris vaguely heard his master make a scoffing noise. "He could have usedthe proper upbringing so that he had felt pain before he had learned how to start to master it, my lord. I have to be careful around the Old Fool, apprentice or not. I cannot torture him past his ability master it without raising ethical questions."

Osiris used this time to begin to meditate again, to try to bring balance back to his mind and body - regroup before the next on slaught. He forced his breathing to become slower, measure by measure, and allowed his surroundings to fade and melt into rolling fields and riverbanks, faintly still hearing the voices around him.

"Haul him up, Severus."

He felt himself being pulled up harshly by his arm and opened his amber eyes.

"You hold in pain, boy. A good defense. How well do you get on with your wand?"

Osiris frowned, trying to focus enough on what was going on around him.

He couldn't turn away from the man's wand with his master holding his arm, and the spell ripped open his skin from his eyebrow across his cheek, filling up his left eye with blood and soiling his white shirt.

Not fast enough with the answer, apparently.

"Tolerably well, sir," he answered, not wanting to get his face sliced open more. He chanced a glance at Malfoy Senior here, knowing the general direction the man had gone.

"Tolerably well, sir," the Dark Lord mimicked, his slit nostrils growing wider, shaking his head. Slowly, calculatingly, he tapped his wand against his alabaster chin.

"Absurdly strong-willed, Severus."

Osiris took this break to try and reach up and wipe the blood from flowing down his face and in his eye. He moved only slightly before another deep laceration of his forearm caused blood to splatter onto his chest. Allowing his arm to fall back to his side, he steeled himself.

"I grow tired of this game," the man growled. "I was momentarily amused that he called me 'sir,' but the amusement is wearing off. There is strength, there is pride, and then there is stupidity and insolence."

"He is but clingling on to his last thread, master," Came the low baritone, "Were you to bend him...Were he to see the benefits...the power...He would serve you as I do, in time. Think of the benefits of a boy who will turn into a man, a man who holds violently to life amidst torture, who fears no danger, who has nothing to live for other than that which you provide for him. Someone so already full of hate that he curses everyone equally. He would show no mercy for failure and has already, nigh a year prior, come close to killing more than one person."

The smell of his own blood so powerful, Osiris barely heard anything except 'killing' and 'violently'. Another shiver went through his body, not of the Dark Lord's doing, that was again both sickening pleasure and pain. He was sick, and this experience was going to bring out the worst sides in him.

"I said I was pleased, Severus," the Dark Lord returned, what was probably a frown forming on his strange face. "I will not kill the boy you've been waiting on for so long. You knowledge imparted to another carefully managed and chosen would do well to increase my power."

-

Voldemort stared at the boy, his chest heaving, his body still shivering with sensation, blood all over him. Amber eyes were staring back at him, almost challenging but wanting to be done. Eyes not that all unlike his before he had made his horcruxes, been banished from his body, and then brought back.

He savoured the moment of eye contact before he pushed into the boy's mind. There was a flutter of scenes and words before the Dark Lord settled into watching Silver curse the Malfoy boy. The calculating bloodthirst within him was undeniable, the blood lust. It was so strong, the Dark Lord could feel it as if he were craving it as well. Then Severus, his sweet, cruel, calculating, Severus poisoning the boy for not obeying him fast enough...Whipping him with curses until raw...depriving him of sleep...berating him...

Chuckling, he withdrew. His twisted smile returned as the boy grabbed his head in pain, those amber eyes growing more lifeless and bloodshot and desperate.

One small flick of his wand and the boy was on the ground again, quirking and trembling, and seizing, but refusing to scream. Not wanting to accidentally lose the boy's brain to his sick folly, or accidentally kill the boy in the throes of power, he stopped the curse. It was always wise to stop before blood was coming out of their ears, at that point damage was usually definite and irreversible.

He waited and then he did it again, until the boy scratched the ground raw.

And again, until those small bloodshot capillaries in his eyes popped, making the whites of his eyes slowly turn more red.

And again until he coughed up balls of mucous blood and spit all over himself.

And again until there was barely any movement of the boy's body against the ground.

And still no screaming. A right protege of Snape's indeed!

"Hold him down, Severus, not that he'll be able to move in his state."

-

As Severus went to hold Osiris down at the order of his Master, he had a dangerous moment of lapsing from his Death Eater persona. If the Dark Lord had been paying mind to him or legilimencing him, it could have been a deadly disaster.

And in that brief moment, Severus knew that the Dark Lord was going to be bold. He knew that there was no turning back. He ached inside, actually feeling Osiris' life effectively rip apart right in front of him. He ached in a place he had not thought possible since that night when the Dark Lord had driven him away by taking half of Severus - in killing his wife and child.

In those precious seconds, his heartbeat came rushing at him, his blood pressure rising to the point of faintness. And when they slowed to the surreal, he watched a droplet of blood flow from the crest of Osiris' mouth onto the grass, watched a laboured breath disappear into the night, watched strong but pained eyes flit to glossiness, watched a once white shirt shake along with a frantic heartbeat, and heard solely in his mind words that weren't his own.

"It hurts..."

And those two words dragged Severus to a place he had not been to in so many long years, the place he had discovered during his Rite of Passage when he was a boy. The place he had no longer been able to get to once his family had been torn away from him. His otherworld of unreality was green right now and not dark and disparate and void like his Llwellyn had been for many years now. His balance, his ability to find balance, to find focus had been ripped from him. And suddenly, here he was in it when he had not even been consciously seeking..

"Will yourself to sleep," he thought. Hoping the boy would simply pass out. "Only a while longer."

And it was gone and the blackness of night and the stink of death assaulted him, his place vanished before him. The last thing he saw of Osiris was the pain and shame in the boy's eyes, which were locked onto him, as the Dark Lord marked him as his. Then, there was no more of Osiris, and Severus could become a Death Eater once more.

The Dark Lord's voice cut through the air to the waiting bodies who were looking on.

"No sport on this one, have Temereau instead," he stated simply. "I'll need this one in one piece..." Those red eyes scanned the crowd and Severus narrowed his eyes. This was simply unusual for the Dark Lord to not let everyone have at the new initiate.

"Lucius, have your go in revenge for your son. Do nothing Severus can't readily fix or it will be you next. As for the future, there will be no such advantage. Based upon what I saw, I'd tell him to stay far away from Silver unless you fancy finding another heir. I'll hear no more on the topic."

With that the Dark Lord was gone. Amid screams from the other man, Temereau, Severus glared at Lucius. Their master had given his orders and they were to be obeyed. Even Lucius would not chance the man's displeasure by going too far.

There was no sport in torturing someone who was already passed out on the ground, but too be sure Lucius would want to see more blood than there currently was. That would be his payback, spilt blood to satisfy his lust. Whatever minute curses he could do to make it worse while staying in bounds was surely fair game.

AN

Sorry for the long absence. Review will help to keep my steam going so that I can finish this. The next chapter will reveal a very large bunny and most of it is already written. As always keep bunny speculation to yourself or send me an email. JulesSage at hotmail. Per my usual, I'll update after at least 10 reviews come my way, please and thank you!


	32. Different Blood

Chapter 32

Different Blood, Yet the Same

Drops of blood flowed slowly into a pool around Osiris' prone body, some his own and some not. Unconscious on the floor of Snape's sitting room, Osiris chek was pressed against the stone with his mouth slightly open. The pagan-type drawing on the floor around him was made of white chalk, ground cayenne, and arnica oil.

His senses were slowly awakening, not to the point of complete consciousness, but somewhere in between. The saltiness consumed him. It tingled on the tip of his tongueand then went through his body like an electrical charge - as if awakening him from the dead,. Which was not that far from the case.

It was alkaline, almost bitter, but it tasted at once as fine as anything and as fowl as diseased flesh.

Professor Snape spilled the last of the blood needed for the spell onto the boy's face and back. Placing his hands on the blood on Osiris' back, he began the incantation. He called upon those forces that Albus so hated.

But, he didn't get very far. He had hardly begun before the boy's entire mangled body shook like it was being electrocuted. His limbs jerked, his face contorted, blood dribbling down his face into his mouth.

As the taste of it took over, his senses began returning. The most overwhelming thing, all Osiris could actually hear was a screeching and thump-thump, thump-thump. All he could feel was his heart pounding so hard against his ribs that they cracked under its force. He opened his mouth, not hearing what came out of it.

A new thing was taking over, claiming his senses, and there was more thumping. His tongue rolled around his mouth.

888

Professor Snape withdrew his hands as the boy's body jerked. Not understanding what was happening. The boy screamed, not at all muffled by his mouth being by the stone floor. The scream was unlike anything he had ever heard and was completely strange after not hearing him scream during the Cruciatus. The whites of his usual black eyes grew more and more visible as the cuts and gashes on the boy all began to close, a blue tinge tracing it's way over his pale skin, even though he had stopped the spell when he had taken his hands away.

He watched, speechless, motionless, as blue veins became more and more visible. They showed up starting at his fingertips and spreading up his arms and neck, and then his cheeks.

"Osiris?" he said, tentatively.

888

Osiris opened his eyes and opened his mouth before he pushed to his knees. As Professor Snape came forward, he pushed himself back to the corner of the wall, clutching the leg of the table desperately. He could barely breath, just taste, just hunger.

"No," he rasped, though his body fought against his mind. "No!" He cried again with a bit more fervor.

One hand reached out to claw towards the man, the other turning white with exertion on the table leg.

"Stay back...away." He strained against himself, the muscles in his neck tightening and bulging. "Don't come closer," he said again.

Osiris gasped, the bitter saltiness overcoming him. He still heard it like a symphony in his head, echoing in his blood, throughout his entire body - the sound of Professor Snape's heartbeat. The faster it got, the more Osiris fought. He pulled his hand back to himself as if it were not his own and hid his entire head behind it, trying to block everything out. He had to get a hold of himself, but all he could smell was blood, all he could taste in his mouth was blood, all he could hear was that thumping, and if his eyes were open he did not want to know what the world would seem to be.

His white teeth bit through his own lip, spilling his own blood into his mouth, trying to fight and quell his desire at the same time.

"Gods, make it stop," he muttered through the blood. "It hurts...Merlin..."

The deprivation of it ripped through him, feel as if his own blood was tearing apart his arteries, akin to the way your stomach felt when you were starved, like it was eating itself. Only it was ten time worse than that and all over his body.

His eyes were so tightly shut that his eyeballs felt squished, but was minute to the burning sensation that was mounting.

Osiris had never felt this. Never. He had always _feared_ this, but has never actually been through it. If he never felt it again, it would still be too soon.

888

Professor Snape was not about to move from his spot, twelve feet away and on the floor with shock, not able to turn his eyes away and his wand trained on Osiris. He had no idea what had happened or what he had done, but there was no telling with the Dark Arts. They were a multi-headed creature that could sprout new heads at any minute. This seemed to be one of those times, ne of those times you were made aware of the consequences. It almost appeared the boy was possessed and trying to fight against it.

That just didn't quite fit.

He stared as Osiris rasped again for him to keep away. He did not have any particular intentions of moving, no matter how much he wanted to help Osiris.

The hand clawing out at him reminded him of something that would be out of someone's nightmares. Despite the fact that he felt as if he were, right this moment, in grave danger, he could not leave.

The man who had always found fascination in Dark Arts, could not help but be mesmerized by the veins just about bulging through the boy's skin. Or Osiris' teeth biting through his own skin with effort.

He shivered slightly, his mind finally beginning to piece things together. Snippets of conversations coming back to his conscious mind.

_.'You have no idea the magnitude of what you asked him to do, Lupin, none, because you have never experienced it. This was no simple conjuring, it.s not like flicking your wand and hexing-..'_

_>_

_''Sir, I've never Shadowed, nor even come close.'_

_'A surprising amount of proficiency, then, with a generally low level of practice?' _

_'I didn't necessarily say that, sir..'_

_'Then what are you saying, Mr. Silver?.'_

_'Although it could be said that I have many druidic traits, my strongest powers are mind powers, which are the ones you need in high reserves to use Dark Arts with any amount of safety, sir..'_

_'So a high level of very controlled practice of the Dark Arts, Mr. Silver?.' _

_>_

_.'I wanted to talk with you about certain things which you did last night..'_

_'it was quite fortuitous that you were there last night. I have. appreciated. your ability to be an adult these last few weeks. I do not fail to notice the sacrifice you made last night in helping me. I know what it is like to do those spells, and I know the possible consequences. It will not be forgotten..'_

_.'It was no sacrifice of mine, Professor Snape, considering the circumstances. It was not a decision that I made. I knew what I had to do. There was no real risk to me, sir, believe me I have done similar things before. Like you discerned a few months ago after that incident with Professor Lupin, I have had a substantial amount of controlled practice..'_

_'.It is wise to hide things about yourself, Mr. Silver, as it will always give you an advantage in dangerous situations. The elements of surprise and underestimation are vastly underappreciated by many. Should the time come where I feel that I need to know, I will expect you to answer candidly, or you know that I will take it by force and you will have little recourse to stop me..'_

As Severus watched, his wand still aimmed, it all began making far more sense. He had not done anything wrong with this ritual spell on the boy. It was not him that had done anything. It was all Osiris.

His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "You must tell me now, I need to know."

All he could see behind the boy's arm was his head shaking negatively before he let his arm come done to the side. His face was so drained of colour that the skin almost appeared translucent. When Osiris opened his eyes, Severus jolted for a brief second.

"What are you?" He said, his voice growing louder and more demanding.

Osiris didn't respond but looked down and put his sleeve to his mouth and wiped away some of the blood, still holding the table with his other hand as if it were a lifeline.

Growing impatient, Severus searched his own mind for an obvious answer. He thought back over the ritual. The drawing...the oil...the blood...the incantat-.

The blood. It all started happening...

For the first time in a long time, Severus gaped.

Then he said, "You're a vampyre."

He was slightly surprised by the vehement shaking of the boy's head.

"No," Osiris said, still not looking up.

"Then what?" He demanded, feeling quite deceived.

"It's-. It's a very long story," the boy choked. "I can't-. I-. Could you get rid of the blood, sir," he finally managed.

With a flick of the thin man's wand, all the blood disappeared. "Now, talk."

888

Osiris hung his head, gaining more and more control every passing moment, but not able to dash any of his anxiety. When the Professor started demanding answers, his fear came back in a different sort of a way.

He could not think, could not function, could not return to any sense of normalcy with the strong call of blood all around him.

It wasn't until after the professor had cleaned all of the offending red stuff up that Osiris was really able to collect his thoughts. While he was not ashamed of himself, he was ashamed. He was ashamed that he couldn't control it and was afraid of it. What he was, he could not change, but what he could change he was too scared to undertake. Even with all the wealth of knowledge and guidance the druid masters could have given him, he wouldn't undertake the mission to fully accept what he was and learn to use all of the skill it afforded him.

He sighed, it was likely why he had never, ever gotten to this point.

"I am not a vampyre. I don't have any sort of symbiotic _relationship_ with any such organisms from other dimensions...There is nothing inside of me which has changed my physiology to that extent, of being not alive but not dead...I am perfectly alive...And I don't require anything strange to stay that way..."

This was not easy, and it certainly wasn't any easier with the man's wand trained on him.

"Could you put that down, master. I am not a danger to you anymore."

The man scoffed, "Anymore."

Osiris swallowed and lowered his eyes to his knees at that admonishment. With all that had been exposed about Professor Snape and the dangers that his existence had put Osiris in, Osiris should have told him about the dangers that Professor Snape was incurring by his own existence. That one word was clear enough meaning to Osiris.

When his eyes raised again, looking less like there was some strange light behind them, but still red with the broken capillaries from Voldemort, he noticed the man's wand was lowered at his side.

"I am, in fact. I suppose. Not entirely of druid blood."

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Sorry for the cliffie guys, I didn't intend it to be that way, but I couldn't get the next piece the way I wanted, so I stopped at the best place!


	33. Obligations and Admissions

Last Chapter:

With a flick of the thin man's wand, all the blood disappeared. "Now, talk."

Osiris hung his head, gaining more and more control every passing moment, but not able to dash any of his anxiety. When the Professor started demanding answers, his fear came back in a different sort of a way.

He could not think, could not function, could not return to any sense of normalcy with the strong call of blood all around him.

It wasn't until after the professor had cleaned all of the offending red stuff up that Osiris was really able to collect his thoughts. While he was not ashamed of himself, he was ashamed. He was ashamed that he couldn't control it and was afraid of it. What he was, he could not change, but what he could change he was too scared to undertake. Even with all the wealth of knowledge and guidance the druid masters could have given him, he wouldn't undertake the mission to fully accept what he was and learn to use all of the skill it afforded him.

He sighed, it was likely why he had never, ever gotten to this point.

"I am not a vampyre. I don't have any sort of symbiotic _relationship_ with any such organisms from other dimensions...There is nothing inside of me which has changed my physiology to that extent, of being not alive but not dead...I am perfectly alive...And I don't require anything strange to stay that way..."

This was not easy, and it certainly wasn't any easier with the man's wand trained on him.

"Could you put that down, master. I am not a danger to you anymore."

The man scoffed, "Anymore."

Osiris swallowed and lowered his eyes to his knees at that admonishment. With all that had been exposed about Professor Snape and the dangers that his existence had put Osiris in, Osiris should have told him about the dangers that Professor Snape was incurring by his own existence. That one word was clear enough meaning to Osiris.

When his eyes raised again, looking less like there was some strange light behind them, but still red with the broken capillaries from Voldemort, he noticed the man's wand was lowered at his side.

"I am, in fact. I suppose. Not entirely of druid blood."

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Chapter 33

Obligations and Admissions

The quirked eyebrow that answered his statement did nothing to encourage him. All the pain he was in did not even begin to touch how conflicted he was in answering the Professor's question.

"My family's practice of the Dark Arts two generations ago is what is responsible for this, and being that I never knew any of them, I can only explain to you what I have been told, sir."

The growl that came from those thin lips was even louder than usual. "I want to know what you know, Osiris, and I don't want anything held back. If I don't get answers soon, I don't care how near death you've been, I'll get my answers my own way."

Swallowing, Osiris shook his head as if to say the Professor wouldn't need to. "My Grandmother was a very gifted Egyptian witch. As all Egyptians, she believed in all branches of magic. Somehow, when she had made a connection, using Dark Arts, she managed to apparate across the planes. She didn't come back alone, she came back pregnant. My mother was born shortly thereafter with no noticeable defects, but that was not enough for the family. They would not risk damaging their line with someone that was ½ not of this world, nor the line of any other pureblood Egyptians, so she was married to a part-Egyptian wizard of a good pureblood family."

Osiris stopped, there was really not much more to the story than that. He was simply ¼ related to some magical person in another plane of existence. Nothing actually that strange...

"While she was using Dark Arts, she was able to enter their world, not just allow them into ours," the Professor finally stated, somewhat condescendingly.

"It is not that strange to think possible..." Osiris replied. "I am perfectly normal aside from a few minor things-"

"Bloodlust is not normal," the man countered scathingly. He was thinking about Lupin and Werewolves, although it was not possible for Osiris to anticipate that.

"Master, when I said that I was not a vampyre, I was not exaggerating. I do not crave blood and this is the first time that has ever happened. I might have an affinity to it. I can smell it a mile away. I felt it when I did transference on you that night because my magic was inside of you. In fact, I hate blood specifically for this reason. If you hadn't gotten your blood into my mouth doing whatever it was you were doing, it would never have happened."

"You gloss this like it's nothing, but yet you've hid it like it was obviously something."

"As I did not advertise that I was a druid and as you also did not advertise that you were the same. Or the fact that you did not advertise that you were a Death Eater. Why would I advertise it? Different blood is not such a rarity in our world, the Malfoy's are part Veela and there are a fair few other families who dabbled in other sorts of things to give their line an advantage."

"Hold your tongue."

Osiris was surprised he had allowed him to get that far, but that didn't keep his eyes from narrowing. After what he had done tonight, was this going to be the response?

"You know far better than I do, master, that we are not the same as normal wizards even being druids! I am one half step removed from that, and you act as if it's a chasm. You are showing me the same discrimination Dumbledore did for my druidism that you admonished him for, the irony of that," he said that last part in half a whisper, venomously speaking down towards the floor he was still sitting on.

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Severus glared, fully aware that he had told Osiris to keep his secret until he demanded he no longer keep it, but somehow that statement was dwarfed by this reality.

It did not matter that when he asked, he was told without reservations, just as he had demanded.

It was no longer in the front of his mind what had happened that night, the sacrifices that had been made, the realizations that he had. There was no recollection of his lapse from his Death Eater mask, nor the way his heart sped up nearly altering his consciousness, nor the painful feeling he got inside when he watched the Dark Lord mark his apprentice. He didn't remember those eyes, those amber eyes. He didn't remember hearing that voice inside of him.

"Being a druid is not comparable. I could not have unwillingly killed you because I am a druid," he finally lashed out with.

"No, but your association with me as a Death Eater could very well unwillingly end up getting me killed and you never apprised me of that before I was already bound to you!"

"_Sir_!" he growled as a reprimand, as he grew more agitated with this twisted turn of events.

Without further response, he stood up and began pacing, holding his wand at his side. The boy didn't so much as move, he probably couldn't anyway.

"You agreed to go, I informed you of the folly I felt inherent in that decision. I did not force you."

The boy huffed at him, "Would it have even mattered in the end? Either way, go or not go, being your apprentice could have then and still could in these circumstances get me killed, _sir_."

"No matter."

Accusations came soon after, and Severus realized that he was not often used to having to deal with his own feelings of betrayal nor someone else's feelings of the selfsame thing.

"You practice Dark Arts, master."

A statement laden with hidden meaning.

"I didn't apparate out of this plane and come back tainted!" he retorted.

"I am not tainted! You never noticed a difference before other than my strange proficiency in the Dark Arts. From what I hear, you showed a proficiency when you were a first year and you aren't 'tainted'."

"Close your mouth," he hissed with a sense of finality. "I have no choice but to deal with this, our position is immutable. The question is what am I going to do."

"I trusted you, sir."

More accusations.

"Trusted?"

"You are going to violate that trust."

Betrayal. He was not familiar with the emotions of it, but was familiar with the action itself. Very familiar.

After a moment and another round of pacing, his wand still at his side, he replied "Did I say that?"

That seemed to quiet the boy for a moment, but only for a moment. The fear in his eyes was undeniable, strange considering a few moments before Osiris probably could have done away with him quite easily. The Dark Magic that had teemed off the boy was definite and it was residually still there. But Osiris was afraid. There had not been that same fear during all but the last few surreal moments of the Meeting.

"Please, sir. I'm begging you. You asked and as I promised, I told you."

There was fear there, unbridled fear.

Severus sighed and reached up to grab the bridge of his nose. He knew there was fear there because somehow the boy felt he had more to lose from his disapproval or displeasure than he had to lose by losing his own life. That was the only explanation for the fearlessness he had shown at the meeting, followed by this.

Scowling, he tucked his wand away and strode out the door, closing it behind him

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Osiris' head fell down, he raised a shaky hand to his pounding head and drew a painful breath in followed by a long breath out. His eyes closed. Never in his entire life had he ever felt physically this bad and mentally this bad at the same exact time. It was so unbearable, he simply wished to draw one breath and never draw another.

But it was not so. That breath was followed by another and another, no matter how hard he willed it to stop. No matter if he held it until it hurt. His eyes opened again painfully and he looked at his clothing through curtains of blood-soaked black hair.

While the Professor's charm had gotten rid of the excess pool on the floor, his clothes were still soiled and ripped. Some of his smaller gashes had closed through the infusion of the Dark Arts the professor had opened and his own inherent connection to them in his body. The larger ones remained, bleeding still. Slowly. Slowly soaking the fibers, growing, seeking.

He closed his eyes again. His thoughts were still hampered by the blood and this strange fascination he could not control in this ill of a state.

Broken and maimed and bleeding... a trail going down his pants and his arms, he still simply could not die. His skin was so white, nearly translucent, his blue veins popped out all over, making him almost take on a blue tinge.

A lone tear dropped from his left eye, as he murmured, "Why must it go on, why can't the torment just end already."

Looking at a red droplet cascade off the cliff of his finger to his knee, he figured with his injuries he should at least not be conscious. The Professor's damned blood had probably stolen that from him too, but he had no idea if that was the case. It truly was the first time he had ever experienced anything concrete like this.

Closing his eyes again, he waited. He allowed his head to slump against the table leg, his other hand finally letting go of it. He waited for some sign of anything - at this point, hopefully death. He had nothing further to really live for except perhaps his younger brother. There was so much of his spilt blood around him that he surely couldn't keep losing more of it...

Coldness consumed him from both loss of blood and the cold air of the dungeon blowing against his blood-wet clothes.

Tremors and shivering came next. Only a few moments felt like an eternity, an eternity he was ready to be done with.

He did not startle when the door opened, did not move for at least the sound of the first three strides. But when he did look up, it was not what he expected to see.

Almost as if the previous minutes had not existed, Professor Snape nodded, and said, "I have an obligation to you. Is it safe for me to help you now?"

Osiris frowned, was his consciousness simply that disjointed or did the professor's actions now just simply not make sense with his previous ones.

The man raised an eyebrow at his unanswered question.

"Yes," Osiris answered finally. "But you have no obligation to me..."

"If I am not mistaken we have an obligation to each other... An obligation, I am sure you understand, my shock caused me to lose sight of. I am passed it now, and I do not wish to be presumptious to say you should be as well."

Was that an apology for his reaction? Osiris frowned, his lips pursing together. It was all he would get from the man.

He watched with slight interest as his master did several probing spells to see what was wrong with him. It would have been easier to look for what was right. It felt warm. Whether he was using his hands or his wand, the magic felt warm against his coldness.

Slowly, he raised his amber eyes to the man's face and studied its seeming blankness as he went about the tedious process of healing him without the use of the shortcuts the Dark Arts somewhat afforded. His master had obviously been afraid that he was going to die earlier, which merited immediate action, but now he seemed content to know Osiris would survive.

When the man took hold of his slashed apart arm, Osiris rotated his wrist and grabbed a hold of the Professor's forearm in his hand, stopping him for a moment.

As the man looked up with narrowed eyes, Osiris said, "I am sorry. I should have told you. Sometimes it is easier to imagine non-existence and not fear it when one imagines the torment of an empty existence for a lifetime. What you have given me, has given me something to fear in losing it, but still being alive to be aware of the torture of its loss... I am simply not accustomed to having fear and it was that which kept me silent."

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	34. The Order

A/N I may redo this chapter in a bit, I can't seem to get it quite the way I like…If I do I will let you know. If you want to keep an eye out on some insider info into Osiris, read my fic (which was once a one shot that I am continuing as a companion to this) Fire To Burn Cold! Altho Osiris would never write in a journal, this is what he would write if he did. I may put chapters up in that from Snape's POV as well.

Chapter 34

The Order

Hands steepled in front of him, Professor Snape stared at the blue veins which were visible even in the faint candlelight. The spell damage that had been done was immense, but just short of what would have been required to either kill or permanently damage Osiris.

Resting the points of his fingers on his lips, the Professor postulated that Osiris was already permanently damaged enough. The Dark Mark stared back at him and in the flickering almost seemed to move on his apprentice's forearm.

There would be no more rolled up sleeves when brewing, or cleaning cauldrons, or scrubbing floors. While he had never seen the boy wear short sleeves, he knew that he would never see him wear short sleeves. Even these small things caused him to frown, his thin lips pressing together tightly.

He had not gone to give his report to Albus like he usually did, instead choosing to heal the boy and monitor him. In the end, Dumbledore had come to him, and come to him at the precise moment when he had helped the Slytherin into his bed and knocked him out with an array of healing potions and a sleeping potion.

The old man had just left. The care or concern he would have shown had it been Potter or even one of his snotty friends, was not even a faint glitter in his blue eyes.

His scoff echoed into the darkness of the small room as he recollected.

"_Well, Severus?"_

"_Well, what?" he retorted venomously, with feigned ignorance on the topic of the question._

"_You well know."_

"_He is intrigued, for the time being, my position remains uncompromised."_

"_And Mr. Silver…"_

"_Will survive, but no longer live," he replied absently, the harshness of his voice conveying his inner state on the matter._

_The headmaster looked over his half-moon spectacles. "You are usually not one given to circumlocution."_

_Growling, "What would you like me to say, that he's fine? That he'll be fine? He won't be fine! He's been tortured, and he'll endure more. All so that you can continue to move the strings."_

"_You don't mean that, Severus," he said with a gentleness that made Snape fume._

"_You are mistaken, I quite do. His life is not his own anymore, in any sense. It hovers between you and the Dark Lord and then again beneath me. He is Marked. It is over."_

"_What is over?"_

"_His life."_

"_You are being rather fatalistic today."_

"_Would you care to see what he looked like when I brought him back or is that far too grotesque for you?"_

_Those blue eyes traveled over the boy for a few moments, taking in the disturbed contortion of Osiris' face even in his sleep and the blue lines that traced half of it._

"_I should like to know."_

_Severus narrowed his eyes calculatingly. Even now, he could tell that the man was not being sincere, but that he knew it was the right answer to give in the situation._

_A brief glance between them allowed the Headmaster to see Osiris' prone body bleeding all over the floor, all of his hair and most of his clothes already full of blood._

"_That is most unfortunate…I am at peace to know that you are both back to the safety of the castle. We will call a meeting, I should think."_

"_It is unlikely he will be able to travel tomorrow."_

_Then Severus understood._

"_You do not mean him to come." It was an accusation._

"_We know nothing ab-."_

_It was then that the temper he held at bay erupted with fury as he grabbed the man by the sleeve of his robe and ushered him out of Osiris' room._

"_After all he did tonight for your cause, you would keep him in the dark? I cannot fathom-."_

"_It is your cause he did it for, not mine. In either case, that is _your _cause as well_._"_

"_And you claim to not pull the strings! You do not give him the respect to allow him to understand what he's made himself a part of, you will no longer have my respect!"_

"_We have not even let Harr-."_

"_I don't give a damn about your golden boy, bloody Prince Potter. He goes or I do not go, or have you forgotten that should the Dark Lord tire of me, you connection to 'Mr. Silver' could prove useful."_

"_If I do not alienate him," the old wizard finished his sentence for him._

"_He is not stupid or one you can manipulate as easily as Potter. He's known few attachments, he does not forge them easily, you action now will decide whether or not it's even a possibility."_

"_As you wish, Severus. Out of respect for the fact that he's put his life in the gravest peril for a fight that is not his that he knows very little about. I will acknowledge that was a fortuitous sacrifice for our side."_

His jaw tight, his teeth clamped together, Professor Snape came out of the memory and stood to get his next round of healing supplies. The smell of blood still hung in the air as some of Lucius' marks proved rather hard to close completely. He had yet to fully examine himself, aside from taking a healing potion.

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Breathing was quite difficult, sending waves of pain through Osiris' chest as if there were tiny rocks embedded in the soft tissues of his lungs. He understood that he must go, however, so he did as he must. His acute senses still picked up his own blood even under the careful bandaging of his master. It would be awhile, he feared, until he returned to normal.

The staunch, "Ready?" from the doorway tore his tired eyes away from the mirror. He tried in vain to furiously finish with his shirt, but the Professor scowled with what Osiris thought was impatience, "Come here."

Feeling small and rather helpless, he watched those long, thin, pale fingers deftly manage the last three buttons of his charcoal colored shirt and fix his tie. Osiris himself was simply far too shaky still and found those fine motor skills and coordination not working as well as he would have hoped.

"Thank you, Master," he replied, his voice a shade softer than usual.

A subtlety he knew the man picked up on by his similarly slight frown.

"You do not need to thank me for such needless things, Osiris. Nor do you need to worry yourself on that count, there will be no lasting damage."

"Yes, sir."

Osiris was grateful when the subject was changed.

"I do not know how long this will last, they are usually incomprehensibly verbose, and some rather garrulous. If you begin to feel ill, I must know. Otherwise betray nothing of yourself and stay silent."

"Yes, Master."

After a brisk walk over the ground and through the gates, they appeared in front of Number Twelve. Osiris felt rather nauseated, but willed it to go away and when it did not, he ignored it hoping it would pass.

As he followed the Professor in the door, his eyes instinctively took in any other occupants of the place.

There were devoid of color in comparison to some of the others, especially the one with the bubblegum pink hair. Professor Lupin was there looking as ragtag as ever, and as they passed by he greeted him with a nod and a 'sir.'

The tall black man in green gave him a very direct once over, which Osiris frowned at. When he was done frowning and brought his gaze back front, he almost startled, but instead felt himself blink hard.

With a clunk, a shorter, older man, with a strangely whirling fake eyeball took a step towards him on his peg leg and gave him an appraisal that was so far more direct than the black man's that Osiris felt rather violated. It was almost as if the man had used a form of legilimency on his person rather than his mind. The other did little to hide the 'harumph,' he let out.

It seemed rather like an eternity before everyone was seated at a long table, Osiris to Professor Snape's right. Thankfully, Lupin filled the spot next to him. Pinky sat across from him.

The meeting opened with the Headmaster's update on what had been going on, little of which Osiris cared about or understood. It wasn't until his presence was being explained that he raised his eyes and found interest.

"His cooperation and selflessness has allowed Severus to keep his life and thus his valuable position as an asset to the Order," the old wizard finished.

"You know how I feel about this, Dumbledore, one Dark Wizard is enough without him taking an apprentice. You can feel the Dark magic radiating off this one, I don't even need a detection spell, and I know you can feel it."

"The intense spell damage he took at the meeting last night is far enough of an explanation for that Moody. Death Eaters do not usually use regular magic to torture people," came that commanding, deep baritone from his side.

"Well then, Snape, perhaps you can explain why he most certainly has an abnormal magical aura then?" The peg-legged man called Moody retorted.

This attracted even more attention from the black man and pink-haired girl whom Osiris had figured were also Aurors.

"I don't believe that I have to explain anything to you or have I missed some change in leadership?"

Osiris amber eyes traveled between the verbal ping pong match and his aggitation slowly but definitely grew. Why, if what they did was so important, would they waste time on discussing him. His position now was not exactly reversible. It was a moot point.

"Alastor, Severus, please."

Now, Osiris' eyes fell on Dumbledore, looking over his spectacles as he tried to gain the attention of the two men. But of course, all that did was create a silence which opened it up to another deliberate voice, that of the black man in green who had given him the eye earlier.

"I think there have been a fair few good points made here, Albus. I understand the need to preserve Snape's life, but I see very li-."

"Little need for him to be here, Shacklebolt," his Master boomed, his fingertips pressing hard against the wood of the table. "Do you like to sentence people to death without them being aware of what they might be dying for?"

This seemed to quiet the black Auror quite considerably, which made Osiris quirk an eyebrow. Shacklebolt was apparently far easier to satisfy or at least had the sense not to get into a verbal sparring match with his master.

"For how beneficent you are all supposed to be, I find it rather amusing that you think it's fine for someone to sacrifice themselves completely, allow themselves to be Marked so that you can keep getting your precious information, and then keep them at arms length," that deadly voice commented again as black eyes looked around the table as if challenging the lot of them.

"That's if we even acknowledge that this entire charade of yours isn't just exactly that, a charade."

"Alastor!" the Headmaster admonished.

"Professor Snape's loyalties shouldn't be in question here, we've already exhausted this. There is no way for him to prove it other than in what he's already done, we all know that it he's intelligent enough to fool the Dark Lord, he's certainly intelligent enough to fool us. The point is that the Headmaster trusts him and we are compelled to, risk or not. We've already resigned ourselves to the fact that we simply cannot know. Let's move on."

"Thank you, Nymphadora."

"Tonks, please."

"Sorry dear," the headmaster conceded.

But that wasn't the end from Alastor Moody.

"Yes, Tonks, we've accepted that somewhat, but that doesn't mean we have to accept the addition of a sidekick! We have no need for two spies."

Severus growled, "Both your propriety and your strategy is quite lacking for an Auror, you are simply getting too old and too parnoid. Ever think that having another on your side could serve a purpose should I cease to serve my purpose to the Dark Lord and end up dead. He can hardly go without a Potions Master. He won't be able to kill us both at the same time."

"So he's been apprenticed to you for less than a year and he's already a Master, Snape!"

"The Dark Lord doesn't think short term and neither should you!"

"Ah yes, the Dark Lord," Moody retorted as if that perfectly made his point.

"You are a shallow idiot with blinders over your eyes," his Master said with narrowed eyes. "Calling him by his name all of the time would hardly look good should he stumble across one of those memories should he use Legilimency against me. I believe we've been through this too."

"I don't care about you, Snape. I don't have to like having you here but you have to be here. He does not. And I don't care what you say, he is not normal. Hunting Dark Wizards for a long time has perfected that sense. Hunting Dark Creatures as well," and his meaning behind that was quite obvious.

With a soft clearing of his throat, Professor Lupin spoke up, drawing Osiris gaze to the man at his side, "If he was 'not normal' as you say, I could smell it Alastor. He is not in any measure a Dark Creature."

Osiris just barely raised an eyebrow, knowing this was a blatant lie. Professor Lupin, because of his smell was the only person who had known that he was not normal. He had indicated as much to Osiris when he had pointed behind his ear when asking him to help him with that Dark Arts demonstration. That spot behind the ear was usually a place where Vampyres had a mark of infinity, which Osiris obviously did not have but it had signified that Lupin had indeed figured him out.

"I don't need you to smell him, Lupin, just look at his face. I've never in years seen anything like that," Moody was obviously referring to the fact that his veins were showing up his jaw line on the sides of his face.

"He does not usually look like that Mad-Eye," Lupin replied, levelly.

Finding this all completely maddening and an utter waste of time, when he was not feeling good to begin with, Osiris finally decided to speak and defend himself.

"I do not need to be here, I do not particularly care if I am not. My objective in this was to save my Master's life since he's the only person who has even done anything for me. It's quite obvious he will continue to be the only person to act thus. You do not care what I went through to keep your information flow. You do not care that Voldemort killed my own father in the past."

Moody pointed and scoffed, "Your Master," then he turned to Snape, "Elevating yourself to a new Dark level Snape?"

Before his Master could answer, Osiris stood up.

Moody stood up and drew his wand.

Osiris was almost as quick.

The Professor stood up by his side, followed by Lupin.

"He is my Master as I am his apprentice, tradition dictates that not the Dark Arts, and were you to use your brain, you would realize that most people in the outside world do call him 'Master Snape' and it would certainly be such at any Apothecary if you want to test the theory."

"Go ahead and try it boy," Moody said of his wand, choosing to ignore the statement.

"If I had wanted to I already would have, Dark Wizards don't usually wait for invitations, do they?"

That was all the crazy man could apparently take because without incantation, a very nasty hex was thrown at him. Followed by another one.

Osiris threw up a block and then countered the first, allowing the second to crash against his defense, the reverberations of which sent him back two feet and made Lupin grab the table. His Master had thrown up his own block.

"Enough," Dumbledore boomed. His usually soft blue eyes blazing.

"In an Order Meeting, Alastor, really, how could you," a red-haired older woman said.

Not paying any more attention, Osiris put a hand to the middle of his abdomen as a small spasm when through him painfully. His other hand went to his mouth as he coughed violently for what seemed like a long time but probably just seemed so with all the eyes on him.

"What did you do to him?" a red-haired man asked Moody.

Professor Snape, who he realized now was holding him up by the elbow, answered, "Nothing, he blocked it. The shock wave of the block aggravated his wounds from last night."

Osiris looked at his hand, covered in fresh blood from him coughing and swore under his breath. He swallowed what was remaining in his mouth. From the wetness under his clothes, he knew at least one of the deep gashes had opened up.

The Auror with the pink hair, Tonks, stood up and said, "I'll take care of him, sir," to Professor Snape, "It's the least I can do. You are obviously needed here to finish this, I'm not."

Osiris lifted his eyes to watch the Professor's reaction, but his face was schooled to blankness. Finally, he gave a barely perceptible nod. The man reached into the pocket of his robe and pressed two small phials into Osiris' hand.

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Thank you all for the reviews, they really keep me going. For those of you who have asked, since some of you weren't signed in for me to reply to, I did update my Sage series!


	35. Ministrations

-1Chapter 35

After Osiris sat down on the couch, Tonks sat down on the table opposite him. When he raised his eyes, Tonk's winked at him. His response to her was a surprised frown.

"Tonks," she said, holding out her hand to him.

"Osiris Silver," he replied simply.

She decided that he must be as much a conversationalist as Professor Snape.

"Let's have a look then," Tonks said, gesturing to his chest, straight to the point then.

It was quite obvious that there was a reluctance there, which caused Tonks to smile again.

"I'm not like Mad-Eye."

At this he scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Obviously."

She looked back at him curiously, waiting for him to take the shirt off.

Finally, he said, "I cannot."

Without hesitation, she raised her small hands to his collar and started to do it for him, which made her smile grow exponentially. He was quite handsome, even all drained of color. She was glad that she couldn't do any extra magic on him. After that sort of exposure, only healing spells, which she new from Auror training.

As she did undid button after button, she found herself wondering how he had known the Professor. They were probably close enough in age and yet, she did not remember him at all, even given that he was probably a Slytherin. Perhaps he was out of school a year or two and a bit younger than herself. She had only finished her 3 year Auror apprenticeship the year before. At any case, to be apprenticed, he had to be off age and that was all that mattered. That and he wasn't another Auror, which was strictly against policy.

Forcing herself to concentrate on her task, she went to his cuffs and unbuttoned those. Without any shame she yanked on his shirt-tails under they came out of his pants.

The way he was looking at her conveyed his appraisal that she indeed done this before, if not in this exact sort of situation, which almost made her blush.

Sitting back, her eyes watched keenly as he gingerly extracted his arms from the shirt and cast it off to the side.

"Ouch," she said, looking at all the angry marks on him and especially the very wet bandages. There was not a particular spot that had gone unscathed she noted immediately. He was quite strong indeed if he was still conscious and even able to walk around after this. And it had only been the day before.

A small chuckle came out of him and he rolled his eyes once more, "Yes, ouch, indeed."

She stiffled a small laugh at how much his words sounded like those patronizing tones of Professor Snape. Spending that much time together, he must be picking up his manner of speaking. It was quite clear from Osiris' ability to roll his eyes and show any levity at all, that he had not yet turned into a mini-Snape.

A thought that made her sputter considerably in amusement, which she feigned as a cough of sorts.

He stiffened, his muscles tensing, as her fingers touched his bare skin. She looked up into his strange eyes but did not pull back.

"You're thin," she observed. "You must have been through a lot."

"The Dark Lord is most often seen as 'a lot'."

And had gained some of Professor Snape's sarcasm as well.

As she unbandaged him, she noticed he was all muscle and bone, lean for his size but not sickly and emaciated. Well his hips looked rather boney and his legs were probably rail thin, but the upper half was nice were it not for the fact that it was all bloody, sinewy, and sliced up.

"So, how did you manage to get yourself apprenticed to Professor Snape? I don't recall him even helping others to get apprenticed when I was in school by sending recommendations."

Her eyes did not watch him as she waited for her answer, instead she cast the soiled bandaging aside. They would need to be scarified to be sure.

She waved her wand, incanting some healing spells silently and waited for his response, it was quite slow in coming.

"I cannot say that I know, perhaps you should ask him."

She snorted, "As if…How is he doing, other than stoical as usual."

"Again, perhaps you should ask him."

"Perhaps, but I am asking you," she replied without changing her tone. What an interesting character this Osiris Silver.

Waving her wand, she incanted some healing spells silently and waited for his response, it was quite slow in coming.

"He has a way of masking whatever it is he is experiencing. He is in a very difficult position, and he doesn't trust anyone."

"Seems to like you well enough," came her response as she pressed her fingers to a stubborn gash that did not seem to want to stop slowly letting out blood.

If it hurt, which it probably did, he gave no outward sign of it, but she was used to working with those with high pain tolerances in the Auror's office.

"He does not trust me, if that is what you are asking. I doubt he ever will. He accepts me and most days I think he grudgingly respects me."

"That is more than most can say…Do you live at Hogwarts then, I remember that most apprenticeships require you to stay with the person you are training under?"

"I should think so," came his slightly confused reply, "I am, after all, still a student…"

At this she stopped and looked up at him. How could he possibly still be a student, he looked to be about twenty, and she did not think the Headmaster would let any student get Marked. Nor did she think you could apprentice while still a student. If she hadn't stopped to think before she replied, she probably would have said something stupid.

She was glad that she stopped to think. It wasn't exactly as if she was trying to come onto him. She was just not sad that she had to patch up someone who was attractive.

"Seventh year?"

"Long story. I will take my NEWTS this year. That is all that matters." He had no desire to go into the fact that he was out of school for a year, which was why he was a year or more older than his fellows. All druids went through their Rite of Passage during their time of schooling in one year or another, but he had no desire to share such things with her.

She hadn't noticed that her hand was still resting by the cut on his chest until he looked down at it as if to ask why she had stopped trying to close it.

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, she pulled it away and wiped it off on her black robe. So much for being careful about what he would think about what she was thinking.

"You appear older than you are." The comment came out nonchalantly, even after the look he'd given her and the heat she felt still on her cheeks. She could have mentally congratulated herself, but was paying too much attention to him to do so,

"Certain life events can do that to you, I understand. I turn eighteen in two weeks."

"Hmm," she said, as she focused back on another gash covering the expanse of his left pectoral muscle. "An Aries. I turn twenty-two in August and most still ask for identification if I go into a pub."

She felt his shrug through the muscles on his chest.

"You must have had a relatively happy and content life," he postulated, obviously trying his best at making small talk.

She certainly could not tell what he was thinking, not that it particularly mattered what he thought of her after five minutes. Most first impressions were based on looks, and these weren't even her real looks, so any appraisal would have been meaningless to her anyway.

"Ahh!" she said as the cut stopped bleeding, almost shocking herself. "No more blood for now, but it oddly refuses to heal, well close really."

"As an Auror, you should know cursed wounds rarely respond totally to that sort of healing."

"True. I don't know the other way."

She felt frustrated with herself. With the wounds on the outside of him in a sort of stasis, she turned to probing spells on his lungs.

"I would not show you."

"You know how?" She tried to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice, she had not meant it that way. Well it wasn't everyday you heard someone admit to knowing how to use Dark Magic for healing, even if it was the most effective way to handle curse wounds. The risk was immense from her understanding.

"Certainly." He did not seem to have taken offense as he was still treating it as a normal conversation.

It felt normal to her, but she knew that it was not a usual conversation.

"I would not ask you anyway." Shrugging, she tried to pay more attention to what her probe spells were telling her, but it was difficult.

"That is wise."

She chuckled and wondered if Professor Snape was more like this when he was younger, the familiar short and clipped phrases were reminiscent of him even if they were less venomously meant and said in much less deadly of a voice.

"We would not be able to use them anyway," he replied factually, apparently misunderstanding her thoughtfulness.

"Why not?" she could not resist asking. It was not everyday someone talked about these things, and being that she was supposed to be able to combat the Dark Arts, she found gaining knowledge of them useful.

The dark frown that almost was a glare, made her look down, thinking she was not going to get an answer to her question.

Silence reigned for a few moments until he answered, "Given what I have been exposed to, it would be quite dangerous. The Dark Magic already on me will make anything stronger and more difficult to control. Dark Magic is an exponential process. The more that's around, the better it works, or rather the stronger it is. Not to be undertaken lightly."

Since she had gotten away with an answer to that question, she chanced another, "How do you know so much about it?"

"I should not answer that, nor is it your business…"

She looked up at him openly, curiously, as if to let him know that she wasn't going to judge him now anymore than she had inside. In her mind, she had already made her judgment. He had signed away his entire life, which was more than most of them had done, even if they felt as if they had. His was a certainty, which was bound, theirs was not bound. He had proved his right to be in the Order to her, but she did not often matter in such things. She was rather the junior member.

As if he could read her thoughts, which frightened her for a second, he said, "I am part Egyptian, we believe in the practice of all magic. We do not believe in anything being by nature Dark. It is only intentions which make bad things happen, or negligence. That and I went to Scyon Academy for most of my schooling, and they most assuredly believe in teaching Dark Magic and not simply the theory or defense."

"I don't often get to hear about such things," she answered, gratefully, "And picking up a book on it is simply not such a smart idea in these times."

"No, I wouldn't expect so."

"What happened to your skin," she asked, abruptly, as it popped into her head. For a split second, she felt childish pointing her finger at his neck and then gesturing up towards his face.

"My body responding to the Dark Arts being used on me, I believe."

"Unnatural forces cause unnatural things to happen."

"Indeed."

"Well, I suppose we are about done then. Let me scourgify these and wrap you back up just in case my spells don't last. If Professor Snape's didn't, I can't imagine mine will last even half as long."

Osiris watched Tonks curiously, his amber eyes taking in her every movement. He guessed at what spells she was using by the way she moved her wand, but that did not last very long. It was then his attention shifted to her and not what she was doing to him.

The Auror didn't seem to be uncomfortable around him at all, which was surprising considering the uproar that had happened moments before. One would think she would side with her other Aurors, but she seemed to be quite of her own mind.

Pink hair and all, she conversed with him easily, despite his clipped answers, not seeming to care if he wanted to talk or not. Her blind, at least to him, acceptance of his character made him very at ease with her in comparison to his usual extremely guarded nature. It wasn't long until he did allow himself to talk more freely, albeit censored slightly.

Her spell work proved her to be quite intelligent, her status as an Auror making it quite clear that she was a woman to be reckoned with.

Even given that, Osiris didn't really ask her any questions or make any statement on his own until she spoke of her spells holding out and bandaging him back up. He was surprised, given the Professor's nature and reputation as 'a batlike, greasy, git' at Hogwarts, that she did not speak ill of him. Perhaps she was simply intelligent enough to know that speaking ill of the man he was apprenticed to and was sacrificing his freedom for would be more than a little daft.

However, looking into her eyes it didn't seem that way.

"You seem to have a good deal of respect for him," he commented as an answer to her statement, "Which seems quite the opposite from most people in that room."

Slight brushes of her fingers against his skin as she unrolled the bandage while placing it around him, made him bite his lip a bit.

"I don't see why I should not," she answered, shrugging. "In order to give us information he goes to those meetings knowing that if he's found out, he will suffer the most horrific, drawn out, painful death ever imagined. And coming from the imagination of Voldemort, that's infinitely worse than any of us can even fathom, probably worse than even Professor Snape can fathom."

Osiris nodded, actually liking her more for sticking to her own beliefs.

"Even as an Auror, I have a hard time thinking the worst of people. Logically, I know that if he can fool Voldemort, he can fool us, but I don't believe it. Not one bit. I have no reasons why, but there it is."

"I do not think you are incorrect in your belief, but I am obviously biased. I am around him often, I have seen some signs which I do not believe could be faked, even by him."

She patted the bandaging she had just finished by the edge of his sternum on his chest and then noticed the gaping wound on the top of his forearm. She pointed to it and wiggled her fingers, "Let me see that."

Without comment, he held his arm out to her, palm down. It was the swiping gash the Dark Lord had made across his arm when he had gone to wipe the blood from his face. Only it was much worse and much deeper than the one that had gone on his face. It must have been a slightly different curse.

It did not seem to want to stop bleeding, even if it was only a miniscule amount, no matter what she tried.

"He did that, I don't think it will be easy to close. Just pack it back up thickly and let's be done with it."

Sighing, she picked up the final bandage and turned his arm around by the wrist so that she could start wrapping it below the cut so that the edge wouldn't agitate it.

Osiris startled at the small sound she made and was perplexed for only a fraction of a second. She was looking at his Dark Mark. Her fingers were tight around his wrist and seemed to inadvertently grow tighter.

As her eyes slowly turned to his, he felt his face tense slightly, eyes growing just the slightest bit narrower.

She looked at him for a moment, thinking, before her grip loosened a bit and she said, "Can I…May I-."

"Touch it," he provided, guessing what she was thinking. "If you must."

The feeling that shot through him as her soft fingers traced it was not describable. It was tingly and neither pleasant nor painful.

He had a notion she would have said that she was sorry, but he figured she did not because she had a notion that he was not one for pity or even sympathy. The look she gave him was enough, coupled with the way she put her whole hand over it and covered it for a few very long seconds before placing the edge of the bandage over it.

As she finished, she went back to their previous topic of Professor Snape, apparently to change the subject. "Do people really call him 'Master Snape'?" she asked, "I mean I know in the Potions world it's normal…but, really?"

Rolling his eyes again, he replied, indulging her, "Yes, I do not often lie. Potions is a very old art with a lot of tradition, there are few Masters in comparison with other disciplines, any who understand that and respect that would call a Potions Master thus. I have heard it quite a few times in reference to him, and not just at the Apothecary."

She chuckled, which made him quirk an eyebrow, "Perhaps I should call him Master Snape just to peeve Mad-Eye."

The click to the door made Osiris arch his head and turn it to the sound.

"Or perhaps not, Miss Tonks," Severus said, making his appearance in the other room, "Helping to ignite a fire between us, which hardly needs any help as it is, is definitely not going to make matters better."

The situation he had arrived in was a bit more congenial than he had expected, and Miss Tonks seemed to enjoy Mr. Silver's company a bit more than he had anticipated as well.

"Sorry, Professor, I did not mean it like that, and I would not do it. I was just saying-."

"I am not an amusement for you," he retorted.

"Yes, sir," she replied, almost as if she were still in his classroom. This made the corners of his lips curl.

"I see you have done the necessary healing," that was as much a compliment as he was going to give.

Turning to Osiris, he said, "Hardly proper to sit there with no shirt on any longer."

"Yes, master."

The flittering look of embarrassment on the boy's face made the newfound tension in the room quite obvious to Severus. That and the fact that he had moved so fast to grab his shirt that he made himself fall back against the cushion of the couch in rabid pain…

"I'd suggest returning to the meeting," he said to the Auror, " It has quieted, we will return shortly. It is not as if he's going to be able to unbuckle his trousers and put his shirt back on with a lady in the room."

He noted a stifled laugh on the Auror's face about the trousers and fought the desire to call her a 'silly little girl', but with her profession she was hardly silly anymore, and with her age she was hardly a little girl.

She had more sense than to say what she had been thinking, something along the lines of seeing much worse. Only Severus was very sure she was not thinking about what she had done in the line of duty.

Wordless, he swatted Osiris' hands away from his shirt and helped him with it for the second time that night.


End file.
